The Object Of My Affection
by tekken4life
Summary: After the last tournament, Hwoarang's life is shattered. Can Lars help him pick up the pieces? HwoarangxJin and HwoarangxLars. Major slash and yaoi, don't like don't read.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1: Show Me The Meaning Of Being Lonely**

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Tekken or any of its characters.

A crimson sun rose upon the training grounds, the solid sheets of sunlight slowly climbing up the main dojo, but for Hwoarang it might have well been night. Days and nights just melded together now, there was no way of separating them. The misery he carried around in his heart weighed down his entire body.

It had been a year since the sixth King of the Iron Fist Tournament, but its conclusion still haunted Hwoarang like it happened yesterday. He had lost his beloved… He'd never forget the day when Nina came to tell him that his lover had died. Of course, he had known what would happen before, but still…

"Hwoarang?" The tall figure of Baek Doo San entered the room and saw his student gazing out the window, lost in his own thoughts. Baek had been worried for his student ever since that Williams woman showed up sometime last year at the dojo. She had asked to talk to the copper-haired man privately. A tense Hwoarang went into the dojo's meeting room, and a steely, almost cold one came out. However, Baek had seen the emotion in his student's eyes. Where once they had caught the light of the summer sun, they now transformed into two pools of utter anguish.

"Good morning sensei", Hwoarang said with a half-hearted smile. "Is it time for training already?"

"Actually Hwoarang, I want you to leave the dojo."

Silence. Cherry blossoms cascaded from the trees to the grounds as Hwoarang's shock started to build.

"Sensei… but why? This is the only life I know!"

"I am aware of that dear disciple, but to continue training without heart and passion as you have been… It is like living without breathing."

"But I have passion! I pour my heart and soul into training everyday!"

"We both know that's a lie. You stopped feeling the day that woman came here. There is a disconnection in your heart."

"I…"

Baek smiled at Hwoarang's loss of words. This was certainly a first.

"You do not have to tell me what aches you so. But promise me one thing. Find yourself again. I miss the old Hwaorang; the boy who used to burst into laughter for no reason; the teenager who would purposely provoke every man in town just to start a fight and the young man who lived each and every day to the fullest extent."

Hwoarang smiled as his teacher recounted the various stages of his life. Yes, he had lost himself. He had lost the ability to wake up each day and greet the rising sun with a determined and mischievous smile. He had lost his will to feel any sort of emotion. All because of him. Yes, perhaps leaving training for now might help.

The red sun bled the sky a deep crimson as it sunk below the horizon. Down, on the dojo grounds Hwoarang readied himself to leave the dojo and swung himself on his motorbike. "When must I return?" Hwoarang asked Baek as he put on his helmet. "You may return when you have found your reason to live again. Until then, I bid you farewell my student."

Hwoarang revved up his bike, and with a final nod to the man who had supported him his entire life, left the place he called home. Baek watched him disappear in to the distance. "Goodbye my Blood Talon. I hope that you find yourself again."

Stars dotted across the sky as Hwoarang travelled to the city. This was the start of a new journey. One of that must be taken alone. He had never felt so alone. It would hurt more if Baek had abandoned him, but to ask him to find his reason to live – this boiled down to one person. Him. This was an opportunity to start over. A life without him. As the pure white moon rose against the velvet darkness of the dark sky, a single tear trickled its way from one of the eyes that knew what it was like to have everything you desired at one moment, and have nothing the next. "Jin… please help me forget you…"

**Thank You for reading! Please review. All thoughts and suggestions welcome**


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2 – Hold It Against Me**

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Tekken or any of its characters

It had been a month of living in the city for Hwoarang. Things were so much… bigger here. It was certainly a change from dojo life, and was quite a lot to get used to: the lights, the sights, the constant noise… he hated the noise. Yet, it was for the best. Hwoarang was always a busy person and city life seemed to suit him. Except…

The loneliness came back at night. Oh, how he missed feeling Jin's body next to his, hearing the lullaby of his heartbeat as he fell asleep. He missed feeling Jin's breath gently caress his face and his arms around his body, shielding him from the rest of the world. He missed nestling his head below Jin's, both of them fitting together perfectly. Perfection like that wasn't simply made over time, it was created. Jin…

Every night was like this, a nocturnal hell that left Hwoarang reeling. So far, he wasn't very successful in forgetting the face of his lost love. He saw Jin everywhere. It was the kind of nightmare that he couldn't wake up from. To escape from all of this turbulence, Hwoarang would go to the park. It was the one place Jin never really liked, which was extremely strange since he was brought up in a forest. Hwoarang sighed as he lay down on the grass and gazed into the dappled sunlight passing through the leaves.

"Hwoarang? Is that you?" Hwoarang snapped out of his reverie and looked up. Looking right back at him was Lars Alexssanderson, Jin's half-uncle and the one person who had been with him when he died. "Lars, what are you doing here?"

"I live here now." Hwoarang tilted his head in confusion. "Live here? Aren't you with the secret service or some spy organization or something?" Lars chuckled. "No I gave that gig up. It's really cool but sometimes it just wasn't worth it. Like the day whe-" Lars stopped himself. He knew how close Jin and Hwoarang were. Hwoarang smiled sadly. "Like the day he died." An awkward silence flung itself in the space between them,

Hwoarang stood up and stretched. "I have to go now. It was nice seeing you again." He mock saluted Lars and turned to leave. "Wait Hwoarang." Hwoarang turned and faced Lars again. "Can I see you again?" A confused expression clouded the red head's features. Lars was quick to correct his mistake. "No, no I don't mean like that. It's just that there's no one I know here. You're the only person that I even remotely recognize in this big city, and it would be nice to have at least one friend here." Hwoarang smirked. "Don't you think your robot friend would get jealous?"

"No, Lee' still repairing her. Dr. Bosconovitch was quite a genius so it's gonna take some time to figure out what goes where." Hwoarang analyzed Lars carefully before giving him a half smile. "Meet me at Treybal tonight at 8."

"You mean the rave club on Phoenix Street?"

"That's the one. Don't be late."

_LATER THAT AFTERNOON_

Hwoarang stood in his apartment, wondering what to wear. He was never one for fashion. Eventually, he just selected a random pair of jeans and a formal shirt. He couldn't get Lars off his mind. The way his blonde locks gently fell from his head… those clear brown eyes that conveyed warmth and kindness, son unexpected from someone in the military line of work… the way his body was so well defined… and of course that sexy grin…

WAIT!

"What am I thinking? This is Jin's uncle. How can I be attracted to him?"

Hwoarang eyes nervously darted to his watch. Time to go, and hopefully nothing goes wrong.

_AT TREYBAL_

Hwoarang spilt his shot of tequila when Lars walked into the club. Sexy was an understatement. This guy was like the king of sex appeal. His blonde hair styled into that messy out-of-bed look. He was wearing one of those shirts that hugged at the contours of his body. He was well-defined but not overly muscular. His jeans hung low around his waist and showed off an ass that was must have been the work of gods. Once he laid eyes on Hwoarang, a smile played on his lips and he made his way across the sea of gyrating bodies. Hwoarang gulped nervously. He shouldn't have agreed to meet Lars. This was going to be a long night.

"Ah, there you are. This place is quite packed."

"Yeah, it is."

"Wanna dance?" Lars jokingly offered his hand to Hwoarang, who immediately lowered his head at the ground. This cannot, repeat CANNOT be happening! I'm attracted to – "Hwoarang? You OK?" Hwoarang looked up. He had to tell him. God, he shouldn't have had those tequila shots. "Look Lars, I have to tell you something." Lars looked up and put on an unreadable face. "I'm listening."

"How much did you know about Jin and me?"

"Well, I know you two started out as rivals."

"That's true, but not completely."

"I don't understand." Hwoarang sighed. "We were… we were lovers Lars." Lars raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Oh." The uncomfortable silence from the park wound its way back between them. "So, you're-"

"Yes, I'm gay. And I know I'm gonna regret this, and if you ask me later I'll say it was the tequila talking, but I really am attracted to you." Lars smiled that dashing smile again, and Hwoarang felt his knees turn to jelly. This was getting torturous. "I should go." Lars grabbed Hwoarang's shoulder. "Stay. We'll have a really good time."

"I don't know if that's such a good idea. I mean you're- "

'Straight, but so what? That doesn't mean we can't be friends can't we?" Hwoarang gave the blonde a half smile. Lars reminded him so much of…

In that moment, a moment that was simultaneously an instant and eternity, something stirred inside of Hwoarang. He saw himself back in his apartment, trying to fall asleep, tear after tear gushing out of his eyes, longing for someone who'll never return. Yes, he loved Jin, with all he had, but Jin was gone. Gone, not by accident but by his own choice. Even if he could only get friendship from Lars, was it not a sign from somewhere that life moves on? He was tired of carrying this sadness with him. Time to be happy again…

"I'll stay. But you better get me home tonight, I think I'm a bit tipsy to drive back home." Lars laughed, his eyes sparkling. "Gee, you think?"

They stayed the entire night. They didn't dance, but they talked and drank. Well, Hwoarang drank two ciders in addition to the tequila shots to make himself feel less nervous, Lars just had two. They talked about trivial things like why Xiyaou was so damn irritating, who the second Armour King really was and where Ganryu had gotten the ridiculous to try and propose to Julia in the fifth tournament when she hardly even acknowledged his existence.

"You had to have been there Lars. It was hilarious! She just took off without even knowing what he was saying!"

"Sounds like you had a lot of fun in the previous tournaments huh?" Lars smiled at the Korean, who was even more tipsy than before, but not certifiably drunk yet. "Yeah, I did." Hwoarang smiled goofily before bursting into a giggling fit. In his intoxicated state, he slipped on the floor and lost his balance. He braced himself for the impact of his fall, but it never came. Lars had caught him just in time with a concerned look on his face. "Maybe that's enough Hwoarang. You'd better come home with me." Hwoarang looked up confused. "Huh? Your home?"

"Yeah, its real close, come on. I'll get a cab." Without waiting for an answer Lars gently grabbed Hwoarang by the arm and led him outside.

During the cab ride to Lars's place, something strange and yet familiar came over Hwoarang. This new friendship with Lars – it felt… right. He smiled to himself. He was learning to live again, to feel again.

_AT LARS'S APARTMENT_

Lars supported his new friend by hanging one arm around his shoulder, and slowly walked to the bedroom. "You can sleep here."

"But what about you Lars?"

"I'll be fine, I'll sleep on the couch. Here you go." Lars gently slipped Hwoarang into bed, and looked into the Korean's eyes. They weren't red from drinking yet, but they conveyed a silent message of sadness and loss.

"Thank you" whispered Hwoarang. The strange feeling came over him again. Everything started to go fuzzy. He looked straight into the Swede's light chocolate eyes, full of concern. Lars arms were on either side of him, and his body directly on top of his. Being this close to him was a heady mix of excitement tinged with lust. Lars was straight, so there's no way he could do this. This would ruin their friendship before it even began. He couldn't… but he had to. Hwoarang's expression softened as he leaned in. When his mouth met with Lars's, he felt electricity crackle around his body. He moaned softly as his lips caught Lars's bottom lip. It was like kissing silk. He pulled back to see Lars looking surprised. Damn it. He ruined everything.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that." Hwoarang turned his head to the side. Lars was confused. He was straight, so why was he drawn to Hwoarang? He didn't know why, but he felt some sort of spark during that kiss. He was too turned on to stop now. He gently placed his fingers on Hwoarang's chin, and turned his head. Moonlight sparkled in Hwoarang's swimming eyes. Fuck, this kid was beautiful. He lowered his lips to Hwoarang's and let his tongue gently enter the Korean's mouth. As their tongues fought for dominance, Hwoarang let out a pleasurable moan and began to gently grind underneath Lars's body. After what seemed like an eternity, the two pulled apart, breathless and completely lost in each other.

Hwoarang's hand reached up and began to undo the button on Lars's shirt. Lars's waited patiently and swooped in for another heated kiss before beginning to unzip his jeans. Before long, Lars was bare naked above Hwoarang. His body was a sculptural masterpiece, with a rock hard six pack and a well defined chest. His erection was fully hard, all seven inches of it bobbing up and down, craving some sort of touch. "Your turn" Lars growled lustfully, ripping Hwoarang's shirt off his body.

Hwoarang's hands helped Lars blazed through the middle of his shirt, literally ripping each button. As he did, Lars leaned forward and planted tender kisses from neck to his chest, inducing another guttural moan from his younger lover. He kissed a trail all the way down to his waist, and teasingly undid the Korean's jeans. By the time his underwear came off, Hwoarang was fully hard and in need of severe release. He had forgotten this, what it was like to completely be overcome by sheer lust for another body; almost needing it to complete your own.

Hwoarang grabbed Lars by his arms, and flipped him over so that he was on top. He smiled devilishly at the Swede before kissing the same trail down his body, the same way Lars did for him. Once he reached his prize, he gently licked the head, causing Lars to growl in frustration. Hwoarang smiled to himself: he still had it. He took the whole of Lars's length in his mouth before coming up to the head again. Lars moaned in thorough pleasure. Hwoarang continued to bob his mouth up and down on Lars's cock, causing the Swede to writhe in rapture while gushing forth every form of known profanity. "Fucking hell" whispered Lars "I'm close." Hwoarang instantly stopped and rose up to Lars's face and gave him yet another aching kiss dripping with desire. "Why'd you stop?" questioned Lars. Hwoarang looked deep into his eyes, as if searching for some sort of confirmation. His reply was barely a whisper: "I want you inside of me."

"Don't we need lube or something?"

"Got Vaseline?"

"Yeah, but - "

"Good enough."

"What about protection?"

"Do you trust me?"

"I do."

"I trust you too."

Hwoarang lay down on his back as Lars dipped his fingers in Vaseline. He lowered his head to kiss the Korean, as his hand travelled southwards to Hwoarang's most private entrance. As his finger slid in, Hwoarang closed his eyes and exhaled slowly. This brought back too many memories of nights of passion, nights where that thin line between love and lust blurred so much that it didn't matter which was which. As another one of Lars's fingers entered him, his body arched in yearning, yearning to be whole again… to entwine his heart and soul with someone else's.

"Now. I need you now" moaned Hwoarang. Lars complied and gently entered Hwoarang, both of them gasping slightly. He didn't go completely in at first, not wanting to hurt Hwoarang, but encouraged by his lover's moans, continued to push until he was all the way inside. He glanced at the copper head, his eyes closed and breathing shallow. With a final kiss on his forehead, he began to move.

Hwoarang began to see stars. His breathing began to quicken. "Harder! Fuck me harder!" he shouted. As Lars obeyed his wish, he was transported back to nights spent with Jin, their faces millimeters apart and their bodies burning with want for the other. "I'm close" Lars grunted. Hwoarang, also near that plateau of gratification, lifted himself up, and with a kiss, came over Lars's chest. Not long after that, Lars released pulse after pulse of his load in Hwoarang.

A panting Lars lowered his head to Hwoarang and gave him an unreciprocated kiss. He then lay beside the Korean and as sleep came over him, he wondered in what thoughts the Korean was lost in. As he closed his eyes, he didn't see the tears that slid down Hwoarang's cheek nor hear the heartbreaking murmur of his nephew's name that broke away from his mouth.

**Thank You for reading! Please review. All thoughts and suggestions welcome.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3: Love The Way You Lie, Part I**

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Tekken or any of its characters.

Hwoarang's POV:

My eyes flew open at the sound of car honking in the street. I looked around to an unfamiliar apartment, and tried to piece together where I was. Soft breathing punctuated the air, and I turned my head to see a sleeping Lars lying next to me, his hand lying on my abdomen.

A cold shock immediately came over me as I remembered the course of the previous night's events. They left a bitter taste of regret and despair in my mouth. I'd been stupid. In my effort to forget someone, I had used someone else for my own selfish needs. I had to get out of here before he wakes up. If he sees me, I don't know if I could look him in the eye, let alone talk to him. The mighty pride of the Blood Talon would just be too wounded.

I slowly lifted his hand off me and placed it on the bed. Despite my better judgment I stole a glance at his face. An angel in peaceful slumber, his gentle exhalations diffused into nothingness. Of course it didn't matter to me, I'd been sleeping with a devil prior to this, whether it was real or in the safety mechanism called my fantasy. Yet I envied Lars. He must really be at peace to sleep so deeply. What I wouldn't give for a night without waking up in screams or cold sweats, or to have to try and trick myself into thinking Jin was laying there next to me.

I went about gathering some of my clothes as quietly as possible so I didn't have to do a walk of shame. Fuck that, I already felt ashamed. I… I felt dirty. Like somehow I had used Lars and betrayed Jin all at once. "OK Hwoarang", I whispered to myself, "one crisis at a time. The main thing is to get out of here before Sleeping Beauty awakens."

The walk back home was uneventful. I kept my head down, not making eye contact with anyone. I felt somehow I'd been marked, like there was some physical evidence that people could see. Some sort of neon sign perhaps, along the lines of: STEER CLEAR MAN WHORE APPROACHING! It was paranoia, I know… but guilt does tend to steal away your common sense.

Once I reached my apartment, I locked the door and pressed my forehead against it. Instantly, my eyes started to well up. I was sucked into a whirlpool of desolation. Strangely though, it didn't have much to do with Lars. Last night's tryst or at least what I remembered brought back memories of the last night I spent with him. The last time I ever saw him.

_FLASHBACK_

Jin had me pinned against the glass window, showering my shoulder blades and the nape of my neck with kisses. He wanted to be in control, he needed it. I didn't care, I just wanted him. What we had was raw. Sheer unadulterated passion.

He entered me from behind. I gasped as I felt his length slide right in. He leaned forward and kissed me, his tongue imploring for entrance into my mouth. I moaned before the kiss was broken and he retreated his mouth to my ear. "You're sexy when you moan, you know that?" he purred, sending shivers throughout my body. "Kazama, you talk too much. Start moving" I breathed in reply.

He obeyed, and started thrusting his hips forward. I groaned as I felt his cock move in and out of my body. This was why there was such a magnetic attraction between us; something that wasn't really love or lust by itself. We completed each other. Jin growled in a primal fashion and increased his pace. I threw my head back onto his shoulder, my neck exposed. He lowered his head and started kissing and sucking at my pulse point. This man knew how to turn me on. His hand made its way around from my buttock to my steel hard member and started jacking me off. His breathing became rapid and uneven, and I knew we were both close. His thumb brushed over my cockhead one last time, and I erupted in a chorus of shouts. Not too long after that, with a series of grunts, he came inside me, his load filling me to the brim.

We both were breathing in pants. Of lately, Jin had become more and more amorous, and needed sex like oxygen. I thought that it was due to the increased pressures of heading the Mishima Zaibatsu, and our lovemaking was some coping mechanism. No one knew about us, or at least that's what I thought. We both kind of liked it like that. This way, Jin could maintain his image as the head of the Zaibatsu, and I could remain anonymous to the world. Besides, it was sexy having a secret no one else knew about. It allows for the escape to another world where it's just you and that other person.

We were on the bed now, me gazing at the ceiling; Jin on his side gazing at me. His hand traced irregular shapes on my stomach, before starting to move lower. "Don't, or else I think I'll collapse." He smirked and pulled me in for a kiss. I looked at him trying to soak up all the details of his face and noticed something was wrong. He may have been smiling, but his eyes were saying something else. He'd always been a moody bastard, but this time… something was definitely off.

"Tell me" I said.

"Tell you what?" he asked innocently.

"Tell me what's wrong."

"There's nothing wrong."

"Don't fuck with me Jin."

"Really? Coz I thought you liked it when I fucked you."

"Just tell me!"

He sighed, knowing the jig was up. One of the things I noticed about Jin was his inability to lie to me. Or if he try and feign something, he always caved under pressure. He lied constantly to Eddie and Nina, but never to me. I often wondered why I didn't work for him seeing as he trusted me so much. Then again, the world saw us as rivals, and it wouldn't be very professional to be caught screwing your boss during lunch hour.

"This… this is the last time we can ever be together Hwoarang." He looked at me solemnly, his expression saturated with melancholy and sympathy. What Xiayou wouldn't give to get him to react to her like this. I looked at him carefully, and started to laugh. He maintained his calm throughout as l let out what would have been the last bout of laughter I would ever have. I glanced at him, and saw his face had not changed one bit. He wouldn't lie. Not to me. I came down to earth with a crash.

"What do you mean? Why?" He brought his hand to my face and rubbed his thumb against my cheek. "Because it's going to get dangerous now and I care too much about you to let anything happen to you."

"I don't understand. What the hell is going on?" He looked down at the covers of the bed before giving his reply, as if in the hope they would answer my question for him. "I found a way to get rid of the Devil Gene. Not only in me, but Kazuya as well." He said his father's name with distaste. I looked at him questioningly. "Well, that's good right? It's what you always wanted."

"Yes, but –"

"Kazama, I'm really not seeing a downside here. If you found a way to get rid of the Devil Gene in you and your father, why are you acting as if the world is going to end?"

He smiled sadly at me. " You know, I love when you interrupt me. The reason I am like this is because the world might really have to end." Now, this was starting to get irritating. "For fuck's sake, stop talking in riddles and answer me!" He sighed again. "I did some research into demonology and the Devil. It turns out that the source of the Devil Gene is a demon named Azazel. There's a temple ruin in Egypt that's dedicated to him. It is believed he's imprisoned there, sleeping."

This was all mambo jumbo to me, but I tried to follow his logic. "So if he's the source, you're going there to destroy him?"

"It's more complicated than that."

"How so?"

"Azazel's temple is guarded by some sort of boundary magic that prevents it from entering the physical plane. To break it and awaken him, the entire world must be thrown into discord."

"Well genius, how are you gonna do that?" He looked at me, and for the first time I felt a strange intensity come over him. It scared me to no end, but I wasn't about to show him that. "By declaring war."

I looked at him concernedly. He was insane. There was no other explanation for it. "Wait, you're going to war? You're the head of the Mishima Zaibatsu, not some first world country!" His reply was as calm as still water. "The Zaibatsu has more than enough military power and artillery than even the most developed nation in the world. We'll be able to pull it off." I was shocked beyond belief. The man I who was making love to me just moments ago was now revealing his plans to go to war. Yet, in all this madness there was still something else. I had to find out, even if I didn't want to know.

"What else aren't you telling me?" My question was forceful and coercive. He chuckled slightly and his face reverted back to a grin. "How is it that you know me so well?" My patience wore thin. "I asked you first. Now, what aren't you telling me?" He grew expressionless for a moment. "Azazel is a powerful being. When I engage him in battle… I might not make it." A pregnant silence filled the air as my insides turned cold with disbelief. "Let me get this straight" I hissed, "you're gonna throw the whole fucking world in turmoil and get killed just to chase after some stupid legend? You're a fool Kazama!"

He turned to me and I looked into his eyes again. They pleaded with me to understand, to make sense of all of this madness. "Please understand" he said quietly. "My entire life has been one constant struggle between good and evil. And it doesn't help to have your grandfather and father chase after your blood. I envy you Hwoarang. Despite what you may think, your soul is one of the most pure and virtuous I've ever seen. You have never known what its like to be corrupted. This is my only chance. Please… let me go." Two tears ran out of his eyes and tumbled down his hollow cheeks. He really wanted this. But I couldn't let him. I pulled him close to me until our foreheads were touching. "I'll never let you go. Even if I have to do it by force, I'll keep you here" I murmured. "Would you be so cruel?" he whispered beseechingly into my ear.

I didn't have to say anything after that. This time, I was the one who caved and we both knew it. After we'd gotten dressed, we just stood in the middle of the room holding on to each other. I couldn't cry – I was too devastated. "I'll always love you. Even if I have to defy death itself, I'll come back to you." With one last lingering kiss, he left without looking back. In the silence of the room, the sound of my heart breaking was deafening.

_PRESENT DAY_

"You lied" I whispered angrily. It was the truth. The only lie he ever told me was the biggest one of all. He didn't come back. But then again, how could he? The odds were stacked against him. I was furious with him. Maybe it was time to move on; maybe last night with Lars wasn't a mistake. Yet, why did I feel so guilty? Ironically, after more than a year of mourning, it dawned upon me. Just because someone is gone, doesn't mean you stop loving them.

**Thank you for reading! Please review**


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4: Love The Way You Lie, Part II**

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Tekken or any of its characters.

Lars's POV:

My eyes fluttered open and my hand reached out to the empty space next to me. They groped at sheets. He'd left. Actually, I'm kind of glad he left. It would have been awkward if he stayed behind.

I reluctantly got up and headed for the bathroom. I stepped into the shower, barely aware of my surroundings. To say I was confused was an understatement. I was straight. OK, so I hadn't slept with hordes of women, but I had been around the block a few times. So why did last night happen? And why was he still on my mind?

I got dressed and went over to the kitchen to make a pot of coffee. I could still remember every detail of his body – my hands had traced its contours plenty of times last night. I could still taste him, his kiss lingering on my lips like stains on a white shirt. I could still feel him as if he was still here, his fingers still exploring my body. I hadn't felt like this about anyone before. Not even Alisa – but then again Alisa is an android. What's going on here?

Why had I given myself over to him? I don't have a problem with men sleeping with other men: hey it's a free world after all. I just never thought it would happen to me. And him. Of all people, him. I remembered everything from last night in sinful detail, but what stuck out the most for me were his eyes. He may have been moaning in rapture, but his eyes looked like they were some place else from here, almost willingly trapped in some other time and place. No prizes for guessing who he was thinking of last night. Heck, he's probably still thinking of him right now. It then struck me how much alike we were. How broken we both were. How empty…

Everyone has to say goodbye and let go of this world at some point. It's an inevitable fact of life. Though there's a difference between letting go and being ripped from it. And if you want to do the ripping? Then there's no solace for the people you leave behind. I had to accept this truth very early in life. But it stills stings like a son of a bitch. That's why I joined the whole military-spy-rebel career in the first place. It permitted me to suppress and forget all the pain I had carried through my life, for a while anyway. After that, it just made me remember more clearly.

I'll never forget the day I came home from school to see the lifeless corpse of my mother hanging from the ceiling. Not exactly the sight every fourteen year old wants to see. I couldn't say anything. My thoughts immediately turned from the ten million questions I wanted to ask to a burning one I needed an answer to. Why? It's the question that has the least amount of letters, but ironically is the hardest to answer.

For years now, I replayed those last few months I shared with her over and over again. She was like a perpetual happiness generator, a smile always tugging on her lips and her eyes sparkling with bliss. She was all I had. She was my mother, father, friend, confider and every other emotional figure a human needs in life. She wouldn't do something like this. What made it even harder was I had no one to be angry at. It would have been a hell of a lot easier to get wrathful if she was murdered or in some sort of accident. But she wanted it. She WANTED to die. That's something you never get over because the pain of confronting it is too much: because I wasn't enough of a reason to keep her alive… because I couldn't stop her. She used to tell me every night that she would always be by my side. She lied.

Maybe that's why Hwoarang and I went beyond lust. It wasn't love. Not yet anyway. It wasn't infatuation because it went much deeper. It was a connection, some sort of bond. Did I use him? Yes. No. I don't know. All I know was that for those few hours we were completely lost in each other. I knew he felt it too. It was too strong to ignore.

We had both known loss. It cuts really deeply to know true happiness and then have it taken away from you. It leaves a gaping hole in your soul. Maybe that's why last night happened: so we could somehow complete each other. Not just for now, but… indefinitely. I had to tell him.

The walk to the park was filled with butterflies in my stomach. Damn it, what was I so afraid of? Losing him – and a chance to feel again. I had never done this before, not with me feeling like this anyway. But even if it didn't work out like I planned I had to tell him no matter what. I inhaled deeply and steeled myself against anxiety, and prepared for the biggest mission of my life.

My eyes immediately made out the copper red hair amongst the green foliage. This was the place where we first met in the city. Hopefully by the end of all of this it would be defined as the place were we took the first step in the unknown together. He was standing alone in a clearing, sunlight heavily draped upon him. I stepped forward and cleared my throat to politely make my presence known. His head immediately snapped around. When his green eyes met my brown ones, the color from his face drained. He shot off into the distance like a lightning bolt, as if dancing on the wind. Immediately I felt instinct possess me: CHASE HIM.

My feet developed a rhythm with the ground as they raced their way to him. Throughout our chase I kept my sight on his head, his red locks floating above and below his head with each jump to avoid the gnarled roots of the trees. My breath was loud and uneven. It had been a long time since I did this, but it was what I was trained to do. With a roar, I forced my body to put in an extra burst of speed to close the distance between us. We were reaching the hill part of the park. He was starting to tire. This was my chance. I reached out my hand and grabbed onto his shirt to pull him close to me. It turned out that was a huge mistake, our feet got entangled and we made our way down the hill, tumbling on top of each other.

When we eventually stopped, it was in the quiet desolate area of the park. He was beneath me, and I pinned his arms down to the ground to crush any effort he made to throw me off. We were both breathing deeply after our chase. He shot me a look of untainted anger and rebellion, but it was for naught. He wasn't going anywhere; I was going to make sure of that.

"Get… off… me…" he hissed in between pants. "No. Not until I say what I came to say." I looked at him and for a moment, he looked just as vulnerable and heartbroken as last night. He writhed feverishly beneath me, but I held on to him until he gave up. "What do you want Lars?" he choked helplessly. "Why'd you run away from me?"

"I didn't want to see you."

"Why not?"

"Because I want to forget last night."

"Why?"

"It was a mistake!"

"Why?"

"BECAUSE I STILL LOVE HIM THAT'S WHY ASSHOLE!" he bellowed, his lungs collapsing in force. He sobbed frenziedly before going completely limp. My face softened as I gazed at him. I knew that look of helplessness too well. You'd try to restrain it for as long as you could, but at some point it burst free. He must have been holding in a lot of torment to shatter so entirely. It really is true what they say – some people are like objects of glass: even the way they break is beautiful.

I blanketed his body with my own, my head placed gently beside his own as he continued to let loose with the water works. I hushed tenderly into his ear and stroked his cheek until his sobs and chokes died down. I raised my head slightly to get a better view of him. His eyes were red and tired after releasing all of that grief. "Feel better?" I whispered. He nodded slightly and let out a snivel. It was now or never. "Look Hwoarang, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have been so aggressive right now, but there really is something I have to tell you. I… I don't want to forget last night. And I'm not talking about just sex here. I think that you and I made a bond with each other. I know you felt it. That's why I… I want us to be together." The last six words hung around us heavily. This was new territory for both of us.

His eyes narrowed questioningly. "But you're straight." The right sight of my mouth lifted into a smile. "I don't know what I am anymore. Not after last night. But I know I do care for you… and that shouldn't be based solely on whether you're a man or a woman, right?" His head turned away as he sighed deeply. "I don't know" he murmured.

"I know I'll never come close to him. Perhaps, you won't love me as deeply as him. Hell, maybe you won't love me at all. But don't you want to see if we have something here?"

"You want to base an entire relationship on a one night stand?" The tone of his voice changed. It wasn't demanding, but it was solid.

I changed tactics here. I placed his cheek on the palm of my hand and stroked his sweet lips with my thumb. He didn't fight back. Instead he stared deeply at me, gauging my intentions. I brought my head down again beside his and whispered into his ear. "Tell me you didn't feel anything last night. Tell me that for those couple of hours before your guilt trip set in, before you started remembering him, tell me you didn't feel the connection. I dare you."

"I… I…"

"I'm waiting Hwoarang."

"I did feel something."

"I know all too well what you're going through. It's like you're the happiest guy on the planet for one moment and the next, you're wallowing in sadness. But life moves on Hwoarang. It's been over a year now. Jin's gone." I felt his body tensed up underneath me, but I decided to continue. "Please don't do this to yourself. It's time to let go."

For a minute or so, neither of us said anything after that. We just lay there, each of us a half of one whole. Please, please let him say something. I felt his hands move both sides of my face, and he lifted my head so that we were looking each other straight in the eye. This time I saw no despair. I just saw him. In the instant before our lips locked possessively into each other, he whispered something so faint, I thought I imagined it: "Thank you."

**So what's gonna happen now? Will Hwoarang and Lars move forward into a new relationship or is something else looming on the horizon? Watch this space!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5: Undisclosed Desires**

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Tekken or any of its characters

The two new lovers spent the hours in the park, talking and watching the sun set. The Swede sat on the ground with the Korean's head in his lap. The silent oak trees were witness to their sprouting affection for each other. They were both nervous – the Swede never had a proper relationship before; let alone with a man, and the Korean hadn't been able to move on from his past love. Yet both of them seemed comforted that the other was there, their hearts beating out a reassuring duet to the both of them.

"Have dinner with me." Lars's cheerful invitation was in contrast to the contemplative world they had just been lost in. Hwoarang looked upwards and smiled. "A little too early on for a date, isn't it?" Lars smirked back. "Well, its also too late isn't it? We've already been in each others pants."

"Not so much been in, as ripped off." They both laughed, but it was an uncomfortable truth. Where exactly would this relationship take them?

"So what do you say? Dinner at my place?"

"On two conditions."

"Shoot."

"I don't cook. I'm a terrible cook." Lars sniggered. "All right, what's the second condition?" Hwoarang took a more serious tone. "We take this slow." Hwoarang looked up to see a benign Lars smiling at him. Hwoarang cast his eyes downwards. "I'm… I'm just not sure where this is gonna lead" he said in a low voice "and I just want to be careful." Lars tilted his head, before issuing another smile. "Sure, we'll take it slow."

_AT LARS'S APARTMENT_

"OK, what do we got, what do we got?" Lars muttered to himself, his head stuck in the freezer. Hwoarang stared at him with raised eyebrows. "You OK in there?" Lars pulled his head out, with a tray of frozen chicken breasts in one hand and frozen spinach in the other, a grin sprawled upon his face. "Found it." He made his way to the sink and left the chicken breasts in a container to defrost. The spinach was unceremoniously thrown into a pot. He then raided the fridge with an outstretched arm and then emerged with a tub of feta cheese.

Hwoarang watched this culinary frenzy with an interested eye. "You certainly know your way around a kitchen don't you?" Lars glanced up and flashed a smile before going back to fiddling with the oven. "I had to be. My mom died when I was young, and even though I stayed with relatives, I wanted to be independent." Hwoarang's face softened. "I'm sorry." Lars stood still for a moment. Hwoarang saw a look of pain inflict itself on Lars's face so fleeting; he thought he must have been seeing things. "It's OK." He resumed his frantic pace around the kitchen. "This might take a while, so why don't you make yourself comfortable in the living room?" 

Later that night, they dined in fluorescent light amongst the soft melody of forks and knives clinking on plates. "This is good" said Hwoarang in a muffled voice. Lars half smiled. "Didn't anyone tell you it's rude to talk with your mouth full?"

"I'm sorry, but it really is fantastic. Much better than what we get in the dojo." Lars analyzed him carefully before carrying the conversation forward. "Hwoarang, you don't have to answer this if you don't want to, but why did you leave the dojo?" Hwoarang looked down. Lars immediately regretted the question. "I'm sorry I shouldn't have asked." Hwoarang looked up and smiled at Lars sadly. "No, it's OK. I guess I have to face up to it sometime. My sensei sent me away because I lost my heart for training. After he… went away, nothing seemed as important anymore. So I left to find my passion again." He turned his head away from Lars. "But that's just something I say to myself so I don't feel bad. I think the real reason I left was to find myself again. He was such a big part of my life that I didn't know where he ended and I began. I think that leaving was a chance to move on with my life. But up until a few hours ago I don't think I was very successful."

Lars felt an abrupt rush of sympathy for the Korean. He understood how he felt. When you loved someone deeply, that love doesn't just dissipate. Sensing a change in topic was needed, Lars pushed ahead with the conversation. "So, what are you going to do for training now?"

"Well, I still practice in the park. That's what I was doing before you ran me down."

"You mean before you ran off." Hwoarang let out a defiant snort. "Yes, before that. But I really do train there. It's not the same as with sensei, but it gets me by." Lars glanced at the empty plates before standing up. "Well, I guess it's time to wash up." Hwoarang stood up. "Here, let me help too." Lars shot a puzzled look at him. "It's OK, you don't have to."

"It's the least I can do."

"But you said you weren't good in the kitchen."

"No, I said I was a terrible cook. Cleaning up isn't cooking."

They stood side by side neither of them saying a word to each other. However their bodies were practically screaming to be in contact with each other. Neither of them wanted anything more than to join together in absolute lustful rapture, but they had agreed to take things slow so they wouldn't ruin whatever they had now. Hwoarang stole a sideways glance to see a solemn Lars intently focusing on a plate. There was something about the Swede. He may be cheerful on the outside, but something told Hwoarang that he was hiding great pain, perhaps in the same magnitude to himself. He decided to be the one who initiated the conversation this time. "Lars?"

"Yes Hwoarang?"

"Can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"When you were talking about your mother before… were you sad?" Lars looked up at him. Hwoarang felt ashamed of himself. Lars sighed heavily. "You know, you're pretty perceptive?" Hwoarang blushed a deep crimson. "Forget I asked, I'm sorry."

"Hwoarang?"

"Yes?"

"Would you mind if we didn't talk about my mother?" Lars's voice was soft and breaking with emotion. Hwoarang's surge of compassion almost caused him to bring his hand to cradle Lars's face, but he stopped, afraid it would be taken the wrong way. "Sure, we don't have to."

They spent the rest of the time talking about trivial things in order to distract themselves from the bigger issue of defining their relationship. It's not that they were in denial – if they were, they wouldn't be seeing each other. It was more of a safety net, incase this 'thing' took a turn for the worse – incase they were thrown again into despair's sinister clutches again.

"Well, I had a good time." Hwoarang's expression was saturated with satisfaction. Lars let out a small chuckle. "You sound surprised. What did you think, I was gonna take advantage of you?"

"Well, when you put it that way.."

"Don't answer that."

"In any case, I'd better get going. Thanks again." This time Lars was the one who had to pull back, almost leaning in to kiss Hwoarang. "Sure, you don't want me to walk you home?" Hwoarang scowled. "I'm not Lili you know." Lars sniggered. "No, you certainly aren't."

"Anyway… see you later."

"Bye."

Hwoarang felt strangely buoyant as he walked home. Everything seemed that much brighter and louder. "Am I actually happy?" he whispered to himself. It felt strange to smile again. It was as if he was starting to rejuvenate his scarred soul. He glanced up to the full moon, radiating translucently in the sky and felt his heart soar just a little bit…

When he reached home, Hwoarang placed his hand on the doorknob and flashed back to months gone by. He saw all those hours he was empty and alone, huddled in a corner, tears streaming out of his eyes, his spirit too broken to even cry let alone get up. He saw all those lonely nights he spent on his bed, staring at the empty space next to him, waiting for that someone who would never return to fill the void in his heart. It made him feel sick and pathetic. "No" he gritted through clenched teeth "I can't. I don't want to be that person anymore."

Lars was getting ready to go to bed when a soft knock came at the door. "Damn it, just when I'm getting all comfortable" he muttered. He flew across the apartment and opened the door to find a grave Hwoarang standing before him. No tears, no crying. Just him. "Hwoarang, what's up? Is something wrong? Did you get home alright?"

"Yeah, I did. Then I just… can I come in?"

"Oh, I'm sorry! Of course, come on in." Hwoarang entered the now familiar apartment and made his way to the sofa. "I'm sorry for doing this, but could I spend the night here?" Lars carefully placed himself next to him and gave him a puzzled look. "When I went home, I just saw myself, and all that time and loneliness. I don't want to be that guy anymore. I want to be the guy I was before Jin died." Lars was gob smacked. It was the first time that Hwoarang actually said that Jin died instead of euphemizing it. Hwoarang continued. "I want to be happy again Lars. I want to learn to feel again."

Lars smiled to himself. "Of course you can stay here" he said gently. "Take the bed, and this time I really will take the sofa." Hwoarang frowned. "I couldn't do that. You take the bed, I'll sleep -"

"Nah uh Blood Talon. My house, my rules OK?"

"How'd you know that my nickname was Blood Talon?"

"I was a military leader, and a damn good one at that, remember?"

"Sure. Well, goodnight." They both leaned in, before pulling away awkwardly. Hwoarang blushed. "I should go to bed" he muttered before leaving the living room in.

That night as they lay in their respective beds, the lovers thought about the day's events. They each longed for the other person to be lying next to them so they could make sure that they weren't dreaming. Life had dealt them devastating blows and to feel so blissful after so much of sorrow? Was this an illusion to set them up to fall again? "No, because he's right there" they both thought contentedly. "All I have to do is reach out and touch him."

**Thanks for reading! So what would you like to see next in this undefined thing that Lars and Hwoarang have? Happiness or hell? Lemme know!**


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6: I Bruise Easily**

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Tekken or any of its characters.

It had been a month since the Swede and the Korean first embarked into a new chapter of their lives together. Not a long time by any sort of means, but when you're in love with someone and don't know how to say it, it can be an eternity. Yet, words don't have to be spoken to tell someone how you feel. You tell it to them all the time: in the gaze that just lingers a bit too long, in the innocent touches between hands and of course, when you're in the same room with them despite having an entire apartment to choose from.

Hwoarang stared out the window and let his thoughts swim around aimlessly in his head. Yes, things had settled into a nice routine for both him and Lars, but what's stopping them from taking the next step. They were living together for a month now, and neither of them had given the other a hug, let alone a night of complete passionate abandon. "I shouldn't have asked him to take things slow. But, I didn't want to get hurt again" he thought to himself uneasily. "Should I make the first move?" His contemplations evaporated when approaching footsteps announced Lars entering the room. He wore a black suit and tie with a white shirt. Hwoarang amusedly let out a wolf whistle. He had to admit that the guy really looked fetching in formal attire.

"Does it look bad?" Lars asked anxiously. Hwoarang stood up and neatened Lars's collar. "No, no it doesn't look bad at all. It's just that I'm not used to seeing you dressed up in a suit. Are you going somewhere?" Lars's expression darkened slightly. "Yeah, I am. I won't be home till late tonight, so please don't wait for me." Hwoarang drew back. "Oh… alright." The atmosphere between the two grew heavy with tension. "Well, I'd better get going then. See you tonight. Or tomorrow." Lars walked out of the door, and out of the corner of his eye saw a blank faced Hwoarang. "Please don't be mad at me Hwoarang" he prayed. "It's not that I don't want to tell you. It's just that if I do, I could never face that pain again. I'm not as strong as you."

Hwoarang felt stung at Lars's abrupt departure. The Swede hadn't even told him where he was going, let alone asked if he wanted to come along. The undefined nature of their relationship hung like a sword above the Korean's head. "He doesn't trust me" he murmured, entering the soliloquy of his anxieties again. "Maybe there is something wrong between us. What if… that bond we have isn't enough to hold us together?" A darker thought entered. "Does he love me? Do I even love him?" He paced around the living room in frustration before landing his fist against the wall with a cry erupting out of his mouth. "If I didn't" he whispered, "this wouldn't hurt so much."

Something out of place caught Hwoarang's eye as he withdrew his fist from the wall. On the calendar, today's date was circled in red. Hwoarang's fingers brushed over it as if hoping the calendar would gain sentience and tell him why today's date in particular was marked off. He took the calendar off the wall and flipped through it. The same day in each of the other months wasn't circled or marked off. What was special about today?

In his car with a bouquet in the backseat, on the way to a graveyard, Lars Alexandersson reminisced about today fourteen years ago. Every time he thought about his mother's death, it made him feel like that helpless fourteen year old boy again. Even though he'd seen countless numbers of people die, this one hurt the most. Because the others were faceless. They hadn't promised to stay by his side and protect him no matter what – they hadn't abandoned him. This 'visit' every year was to suppress his guilt. "I'm calm" he thought. "I'm not angry or anything else. Just calm." He ignored the slight lump in his throat that warned him of the consequences if he wasn't.

Hwoarang's head spun. Where was Lars off to? Secret black-op meeting? Adult film theatre? Blood donation clinic? Each reason was feebler than the last. This was a reflection of their relationship – a bond built on something other than trust, destined to crumble and fall into the pain from which it was forged from. "This bites" he remarked irritably. He went into the bedroom and flopped upon it with a sigh. If Lars really did hurt him, even in this vague semblance of a relationship, he wouldn't be able to handle it. A crinkling sound came out of nowhere. Hwoarang sat up. He bounced again on the bed, and the sound followed. A stained piece of paper was jutting out from underneath the mattress. Hwoarang leaned over and grabbed it. Time had certainly aged it, but it seemed well preserved. A corner of it was stained in a tinge of reddish-brown. It was addressed to Lars. "Strange place to keep something like this" muttered Hwoarang. Was this a clue to the big mystery? He carefully opened the paper.

No year was given, but today's date was written in the top right hand corner. Hwoarang's eyes were immediately entranced by the flawlessly neat handwriting. Whoever wrote this was must have spent a lot of time putting their thoughts into words like this. They must have loved Lars very deeply. Maybe even more than he ever wanted to… or could.

_22 May _

_My dearest Lars_

_My son, I write this with a heavy heart, and yet it is simultaneously filled with peace. This mere letter will not be enough to cover the multitude of 'I love you's' I'm supposed to say over the rest of your life, but it will be the final mark of my affection to you._

_If you are reading this, then you probably already know what I have done to myself. Please don't ask why. I don't even have the answers to that myself. All I know is that these past couple of years have been filled with melancholy lulls for me, and it's getting tiring to pretend that everything's fine when its not. Remember when you were little, and we would go to the park and stare up at the clouds and see their shapes? From then I knew, that I wouldn't be enough of a mother for you. You deserved someone who was truly happy, and who would fill your days with innumerable moments of joy. I'm sorry I couldn't be that for you. _

_Please do not blame yourself for my decision. This was not any fault of yours. You are, and will continue to be, the light of my life. I will always be with you._

_With all my love and more_

_Mother_

As if a light switched on within him, Hwoarang understood…

A half moon was the lone onlooker to Lars trudging his way to the grey tombstone. A stone cherub sat on top of it, his eyes downcast over the grave as if protecting him. Lars read the tombstone with wounded eyes: _Here lies Nikki Alexandersson. Beloved daughter, sister and mother_. "Mother" thought Lars acidly. "More like betrayer." He stood in silence before he decided to speak. "You really hurt me 'Mother'. You said you did it because you couldn't live with the sadness anymore. It's ironic because you left me in more pain than you could ever imagine. I cried myself to sleep every night for years. All because of what you did." He paused before continuing. "I found someone. A guy. Not exactly how I how I thought things would turn out, but it doesn't matter. I… I love him." The words finally broke free. "I love him. He's a bit broken too. But I'll make him happy. I'll make sure that he'll never feel the pain you made me feel. I swear it." A breeze swayed by as if in reply to his tirade. He sighed. "I really am a fool aren't I?" He turned around and made his way back to the car, feeling the years of emptiness consume him.

Lars entered the apartment at around midnight. His face was weary with the day's events. "I waited for you." A soft voice came from the sofa. Hwoarang was awake, his face filled with concern. Lars sighed and seated himself next to the Korean. "You shouldn't have" he said, his face looking straight ahead. Hwoarang moved closer. "I wanted to." Silence. Hwoarang pressed on. "I found the letter." Lars's neck snapped around and looked at him with mixture of shock and fear. "You… you read it?" His voice was shaky. Hwoarang nodded slowly. Lars looked down, his breathing deep and uneven. "You shouldn't have done that."

"Maybe not. But you can't keep on holding on to that pain." Lars snorted sarcastically. "You're one to talk." Hwoarang looked at him deeply before giving his reply. "This isn't about me." Lars stood up suddenly. "Can we not talk about this?"

"You can't keep holding it in." Lars rounded on him, fury blazing in his eyes. "You really don't get it!" he bellowed. "SHE LEFT ME, OK? She murdered herself because she didn't want to face up to the pain! She abandoned me!" Lars's outburst left him drained emotionally. He was sobbing heavily. It reminded Hwoarang of that day in the park, but now the roles had reversed. He had to be the rock now.

Hwoarang stood up and pulled Lars into a hug. It was the first contact they had in a month. However this was going to end, the platonic days would end with it. "I feel too much for him to carry on safely" he thought. Lars was still crying on his shoulder. "Lars" Hwoarang said in a low voice "she really did love you." He felt Lars's head shift on his shoulder. "I find that hard to believe" he said in a muffled voice, thick with tears. Hwoarang pulled back and placed his hands on Lars's cheeks. Lars responded by taking his hand and opening it with his own and planting a small kiss on it. "I wasn't enough for her Hwoarang. I couldn't make her pain go away. She pretended to be happy each day, and I fell for it like the idiot I am." He looked deeply into Hwoarang's eyes, his chocolate eyes tearing up again. "I couldn't save her" he whispered sadly.

Hwoarang pulled him in closer. "I know it hurts. And I also know it's easy to be angry with her. But you can't blame yourself. If you could have saved her, you would have. But she felt that you deserved better… and she loved you too much to let you see her unhappy for even one moment." Lars gazed at him in awe, reminded of the polar symmetry in the park a month earlier. Hwoarang tilted his head to the side. "We do strange things for the people we love Lars. They may not understand it… but we do it because we love them." Hwoarang moved his lips mere millimeters away from Lars's. "I love you" he murmured, his voice making Lars lightheaded with desire. Lars moved his mouth over to Hwoarang's ears. "Do you really?" he whispered. Hwoarang pulled back and gazed into the Swede's eyes, instantly desiring the emotional distance between them to be removed. "Yes I do." His reply was warm and comforting. Before pressing his lips against the Korean's, Lars breathed his response: "I love you too."

The kiss was reminiscent of that first one shared between them all those nights ago, but something had changed. Now, it meant something deeper, something definite. Hwoarang granted the entrance of Lars's tongue into his mouth and melted into his arms. He wrapped his arms around the Swede's body, and for the first time in over a year felt his heart soar. Lars pulled back from the kiss and went for Hwoarang's neck, kissing and gently biting his pulse point, eliciting a moan from the copper head. His hands roamed all over the Korean's body, lovingly paying attention to each muscle they encountered.

Lars pulled back, causing Hwoarang to stare at him in confusion. "Let's go to the bedroom. I want to do this right." Hwoarang nodded and took the blonde by the hand. On they way, they shed their clothing in a heady rush of passion and practically ran to the bedroom. Once their Hwoarang took Lars in his arms and pulled him onto the bed. Their lips crashed together in another heated kiss and pulled apart to look in each others eyes. Each one saw the mirror image of what they felt: wholeness. Lars started kissing a trail down Hwoarang's body before reaching his entrance. He grabbed the Vaseline on the nightstand and dipped his fingers in it. He pulled himself up for another kiss, before allowing his fingers to enter Hwoarang. The Korean gasped, before moaning. This felt right. "Now. Do it now" he whispered urgently.

Lars slid his length into Hwoarang while kissing his neck and chest to get him to relax. He started moving slowly at first, building a steady rhythm before increasing it. They both spoke in a language of grunts and moans, both of them burning with yearning for the other person. This night signaled the end of two separate worlds and the birth of a new single one. They both connected physically and emotionally. They finally defined their relationship.

Lars threw his head back, his face contorted with lust. He was close. He reached down and brushed his hand over Hwoarang. "Fuck, I'm coming!" they both shouted at the same time. Hwoarang's seed shot forth onto Lars chest, while Lars deposited his load deep inside Hwoarang. He collapsed on top of his lover, panting and sweating. He pulled himself up till he was the same level as Hwoarang and gave him a light kiss. As their eyes closed from the fatigue of their lovemaking, they both said it at the same time. Those three words that seal the emotional connection between two people, the words that bind two people together: "I love you."

Halfway across the world, in a seedy rundown bar, a blond woman was impatiently waiting for someone to arrive. "Damn him, he always does this!" As if on cue, a tall man appeared and took the seat opposite to her. His cheeks were hollowed out and his cupid bow lips were pulled into a slight smirk. The pitch black bangs of his hair shielded her from the full intensity of his eyes. His looks were truly godlike. The blond woman gave a small sigh as she supported her head on her arm. "So… what can I do for you Jin?"

**Uh oh… trouble's looming over the horizon for Lars and Hwoarang. What's gonna happen next? Find out soon! Please review.**


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7: All Good Things Come To An End**

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Tekken or its characters.

Jin's POV:

Good and evil are inherent within everyone. They are what make humans unique because amongst all life forms, we have the dual potential to be a saint or a sinner.

Unfortunately, when you're part of the Mishima bloodline, you don't have a choice. Evil is the only option you have – it's your destiny. I despise the blood that runs through my veins. Maybe blood is a wrong choice of words… malevolence is more like it. So I fought destiny for another choice, for a chance to free myself of the corrupting bonds of my paternal family. And on the way, I met and lost the love of my life.

It's important to understand that my life has been one long battle between the good and evil halves within me. Each of them have been engaged in an eternal struggle for dominance but neither one seems to win. Sometimes… just sometimes I think maybe it would be easier to just give into the darkness and finally be at peace. But then I think of my mother and what she would say. Would she be proud?

I think that's the reason why I fell in love with Hwoarang in the first place. He reminded me so much of her. He's stubborn, proud, a sore loser and sensitive just like she was. I'll never forget the day I first met him. The sun was caught in his copper locks. His head was tilted cockily and his eyes were narrowed as if to say: "Think you can take me on sucker?" Of course, I did take him on. For some reason, this fiery-headed Korean spurred my interest. His arrogant taunts and dagger-eyed looks belied his purity. He had never known the evil's seductive caress, and he'd probably never have to. He was just so innocent – and I wanted to be just like him.

I'd won more than just that fight. I'd gained a rival. That's how we came to respect each other over the years. We would chase each other, both of us caught in some cat and mouse game in each of the tournaments. It meant more to him than it did to me. For him, it was about regaining his honor and showing me up. Me? I just wanted to spend time with him. I admired him. Over time, he began to invade my thoughts, and every time I saw him; I wanted him more than anything. Even when you're expecting it, it's still a revelation to discover that you're falling in love.

During the fifth tournament, I'd lost control of the Devil Gene within me. Something just happened during the fight when I faced off against him. My mind went black and I transformed into my Devil form. It was like watching myself from outside my body. I could see me attacking him, but I was powerless to stop it. I screamed for it to stop, but it just wouldn't let go. When I woke up, I found out that he had landed up in the hospital. He was in critical condition. I immediately filled up with guilt. Even though it had taken over me, this was still my fault. I couldn't keep it under control. When I saw him, lying on the hospital bed unconscious, I broke. This was too much for me – to see the one person I cared about since my mother in a terrible state, and to know I was responsible: it flung me into a chasm of culpability and regret. I remember placing my hand on his face. You could practically feel his virtuousness flowing within him. A sleeping angel – my angel. When his eyes fluttered open and saw me, he immediately threw a look of hatred and disgust at me. I couldn't blame him. I apologized the only way I knew how. I lowered my head, and lightly brushed my lips against his before locking his mouth with mine. I felt his heartbeat race and his body tense as my tongue pushed itself into his mouth. In that one moment I knew I had lost myself completely to him. I was his whether he wanted me or not.

On that day, we became more than rivals or friends. We became lovers. It was something new for me, because apart from my mother, I had always lived life for myself, fulfilling my own needs. Now, I had someone else to think about. Not that it mattered so much. I needed him more than he did me. We spent a myriad of hours together. Sometimes we didn't speak at all. We didn't need to. We said what needed to be said through our eyes and hands wandering over each other. I was never happier than when I was with him. Yet, as with the rest of my life, my dearest friend tragedy wasn't lurking far behind.

_AFTER THE FIFTH TOURNAMENT_

When I took over the Mishima Zaibatsu I gave serious consideration to shutting it down. This was the tangible metaphor of everything that the Mishima name stands for: power and corruption. This company had brought so much of misery to countless people over the years. Just thinking about all those individuals who had been cheated or murdered to forward the Zaibatsu made me sick. Besides, if I were to shut it down, I could only imagine the fury on Kazuya's and Heihachi's faces. Still, something was troubling me about this.

The Devil Gene inside of me had grown stronger. Ever since the end of my first tournament I had been looking for a way to suppress it. I had been successful when I was living in Australia, but when I was there I had isolated myself from forming bonds with anyone. Now, that changed. Hwoarang changed me. I didn't want to be that robot. I wanted to love him. But how can a monster love someone so pure? How can I love him when I hate myself?

I decided that the Zaibatsu would be my key into helping me get rid of the evil within. With its infinite resources of capital and manpower, I would find a way to get rid of this gene. Only then would he and I be perfectly happy. I vowed to myself that once I achieved this goal, I'd put an end to this company, once and for all.

Hwoarang was patient throughout those months of research. I'd expected him to throw tantrum after tantrum as to why our 'meetings' were so infrequent, but he didn't complain. I didn't tell him what I was working on. I couldn't risk him disapproving or getting involved. My instincts told me this was going to get dangerous fast. So I waited until I was sure of what to do… so he would be too late to stop me.

Azazel, the Great Rectifier. This demon was the source of the Devil Gene. Once he was gone, I'd be free. Unfortunately, just to get him onto the physical plane cost a high price. The entire world had to be in a state of chaos. For me, this meant one thing: war. I weighed up my options over and over again. I could be rid of the Devil Gene, but at the cost of millions of innocent lives. I wouldn't be any different from my father or grandfather – I would become what I stood firmly against. But what if I didn't? Could I live with this thing inside of me? No. It would only be a matter of time until I lost control of it again. Hwoarang just got hurt the last time. What if he was killed? With a heavy heart, I decided to change the fate of the world.

To lessen the blow on Hwoarang, I tried to spend more time with him before I actually told him. Our lovemaking became more passionate and raw. If he was surprised, he hid it well. We spent plenty of nights locked in each other's embrace, our sweating bodies grinding together. Who knew when the next time I saw him again would be? There could literally be no tomorrow.

As I suspected, he tried to stop me when I told him. Part of me wanted to listen to him and end this madness before it began. I then realized that this was the same part of me who wanted to take his hand and run with him into a new life together. And for that to happen, a price had to be paid. Nothing else mattered anymore. This was a necessary task that had to be completed, cathartic in its ambivalent nature. The entire world would pay for one man's happiness. I appreciated the irony that to make Hwoarang happy, I had to first break his heart.

_THE SIXTH TOURNAMENT_

Of course the road to happiness is paved with difficulty. Kazuya announced a bounty on my head, and of course Heihachi was somewhere biding his time trying to take over the Zaibatsu. Then there was the rebellion, led by my half uncle Lars Alexandersson. Oh, did I mention the bear? Pardon my French, but Kuma really is a dumb fuck. All of these obstacles stood in my way, and were beginning to become a nuisance. So to throw everyone off, I announced the sixth King of the Iron Fist Tournament. This one would be different from its predecessors. Previously, it had been used as a manner of testing how strong the Mishimas were, or to play out some family hatred. The prizes had ranged from entire walls of suitcases filled with money to the position of Zaibatsu head. Now, this tournament would serve as a distraction from what was really going on, and I would virtually be free to pursue my other goals.

Even with the tournament underway, Kazuya and Heihachi would still bay after my blood. That's when I knew that my Swede uncle would come in handy. He'd keep them busy for me. Once they'd been dealt with, he'd come after me, but it would be too late by then. Azazel would be fully restored, and I could end this nightmare.

_AZAZEL'S TEMPLE_

I was strangely calm before my battle with the Rectifier. This was it – no turning back. My dream of being demon-free was finally turning into reality. I whispered up a prayer to heaven that this would work. As I charged towards the mighty devil, my mind was only focused on Hwoarang. Call it a dead man's dream, but I could see him smiling, his hand stretched outwards to me. With a roar that caused the earth to shudder, I landed the most powerful punch I'd ever thrown in my life squarely in the centre of the beast's chest.

As we both fell, my mind started to go black before being vanquished by rays of pure white light. The darkness that had seized me for so long burnt itself into nothingness. I whispered a thank you heavenwards. I had won.

_AFTERMATH_

Life just seemed… beautiful. Without worrying about Kazuya, Heihachi and the Devil Gene, I spent time catching up on the small 'in between' moments that I'd missed out on for so many years. You know, the small things like the laughter of children playing in the sunshine, or the magnificent simplicity of staring at the night sky, looking at the plethora of stars in the velvet night sky.

Even with these beautiful moments, my life was empty without Hwoarang. I spent my nights staring at the empty half of whatever bed I was sleeping in, craving for the warmth of his body next to me. I wanted to tell him how much I loved him, and hear his infectious laugh course its melodious path through my ears. I want him so badly. I need him, more than the air I breathe.

The time's right to find him. And this time, I'm never letting him go…

**This chapter is dedicated to MafiaTango, noise-sound of life, FavUYA and of course knightales Thank you guys for all the praise, I'm really flattered. Unfortunately I won't be able to update this story as quickly as I have been doing for a while BUT never fear! They'll still keep on coming! Be prepared for the big drama next time :D**


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8: Broken Strings**

**Disclaimer: ** I do not own Tekken or any of its characters.

Rain cascaded from the pewter grey sky like solid sheets and burst onto the ground below. From far above, in an empty hotel room, Hwoarang pressed his head against the cool window pane and watched the monotonously silver heavens burst their clouds to the suffering ground below. He slowly closed his eyes and let his heart's conflict fill him completely. This wasn't how it was supposed to go.

The door clicked open and Hwoarang turned around to see a bone soaked Jin Kazama walk in. His hair stood up in a million directions and his bangs stuck onto his forehead. His clothes were drenched and must have gained twice their weight in water. He wore a slight smile on his face. "Finally, a decent excuse to get wet." He walked over and pressed a small kiss onto the Korean's lips. As they drew apart, Hwoarang forced a smile that seemed to sap what little energy he had. Jin bought into it as he leaned over. "I'm going for a shower. Care to join me?" he whispered mischievously into Hwoarang's ear. "As interesting as your offer is, I'll wait for the show after the shower" replied Hwoarang, his voice low and seductive.

As he watched Jin head over to the bathroom, Hwoarang's face collapsed into an expressionless mask. He just didn't get it. This was what he wanted for so long, to be with the love of his life again. Jin was here, tangible and alive. They were together again, reunited after over a year of hell. "Well, not complete hell" Hwoarang admitted guiltily to himself. He held up the chain he was wearing and felt it weigh him down into a purgatory filled with blame. Sometimes, pain casts such a wide illusion that you don't really see what's right in front of you.

_TWO MONTHS EARLIER_

The redhead rose to greet the rising sun with a confident smirk playing upon his face. He had not done this for a while now, and it felt strange to get back into an old habit. Hell, it was strange to feel like this again. This feeling of… excitement tempered with a gentle embrace of pleasure. It was like greeting an old friend again. He had found himself.

He moved his way stealthily to the sleeping blonde and gazed for an eternity at his slumbering lover. He leaned down slowly and showered an exposed shoulder with tender, feather-light kisses. The blonde stirred, and after letting out a reluctant groan that sounded like "five more minutes", opened his eyes to a smiling Hwoarang. He grabbed the Korean and bruised their lips together in an ardent kiss. Their tongues wrestled forcefully before they pulled apart, each with a grin on his face.

"Well, that certainly is one way to say good morning" Hwoarang said playfully, still slightly breathless after the zealous lip-lock. Lars looked at him smugly. "Why, you don't like it? Because if you don't, I think I can improve on it." He grabbed Hwoarang again, but this time the Korean was expecting it. He flipped the Swede so that he was on top of him. "What say we play out one of my ideas?" he whispered huskily. Lars smirked. "Alright, what's the plan?" Hwoarang bent down and gifted Lars with an agonizingly slow kiss that caused both of their groins to stiffen. "Can I?" Hwoarang whispered pleadingly to Lars. The Swede tried to comprehend the request before understanding graced him with its presence. He looked at his lover deeply before raising his head to show his approval with another leisurely paced kiss. "If that's what you want." His words sent shivers of ecstasy down the Korean's spine.

Hwoarang reached for the lotion on the nightstand and applied a generous amount to his fingers. This time there was no undressing or frustrating ripping off of clothes. They were both still naked from the previous night's events, but their longing for each other had not diminished. Hwoarang allowed his hand to reach out to his entrance. The blonde growled in pleasure at the and unchastely spread his legs to allow the Korean to get better access to his steel hard erection. The Korean lowered himself onto Lars's legs and impaled himself on his lover. Both of them gasped as Lars's length disappeared into Hwoarang, causing a wave of sexual frenzy to wash over them as they lost their senses in a heady tide of lust.

The copper head moved up and down his lover's length, his eyes shut in desire. Each movement he made caused him to release a slow exhalation that was music to the blonde's ears. Lars sat up and started to kiss his lover's neck, educing a throaty moan to reward his efforts. Hwoarang was in a state of total bliss. It was moments like this that he lived for, where he shed all inhibitions and attacked Lars's body with animalistic need. He gripped his arms tightly onto Lars's neck and dissolved completely into him. Their bodies were now forming beads of sweat and their breaths came in pants. They were close. Lars mustered final thrust into his beloved and they both threw their heads back, each lost in the blissful caress of his own orgasm.

Hwoarang collapsed onto Lars's body after coming down from his private nirvana, his head slotting perfectly within the Swede's neck. Lars flung an arm around them and they both looked at each other, smiles fixed on their faces. Being this close to each other was a symbiotic experience. Each of them felt the scars of the past heal as they got to know each other, their hearts slowly mending and melding into one. Hwoarang let his eyes fall onto the alabaster skin he was swathed upon. With Jin, it was more of a whirlwind passion, intense and raw in its definition. That particular relationship was heavily charged with emotion, always leaving him yearning for more. It wasn't that Jin didn't care for him: he knew that much from the last time they were together, and the inestimable nights, days and minutes in between they spent with each other. But being with Lars was different. He always felt comforted and soothed with him, like somehow he could instinctively know what he was thinking or how he was feeling. That wasn't a much of a surprise considering life had dealt them very similar hands, but still… after all this time of carrying around this burden of despair and anger, it was as if he was falling in love again for the first time.

Lars gazed down at the copper head, his chocolate eyes filled with adoration. Hwoarang could practically feel it. "You're staring" he murmured, his hand tracing irregular shapes on the blonde's chest. Lars wrapped his other hand around his lover's body. "How did you come into my life?" Hwoarang let out a sigh. "Fate, chance, karma? It doesn't matter. What matters is we're here now, right?" Lars kissed the top of his head. "You're right." He reached onto the night stand and felt out for a thin gold chain. Hwoarang looked up. "What's that?" Lars gently placed his hand underneath Hwoarang's chin and slowly lifted his head up. "I want you to have this." Hwoarang frowned slightly. "You bought this?"

"Not really. I had it for a long time. I want you to have it."

"Why?" Lars looked amused at Hwoarang's confusion. "So you have something to remember me by." "I don't need it. I'm not going anywhere." Lars's expression took a serious turn. "Hwoarang, you don't know what might happen tomorrow. Things change and people change with them. That's why I want you to keep this, so you'll always know that…" His lowered his head, unable to go on further. Yesterday's graveyard visit was still fresh in his mind, along with a lurking fear of loss. This time, Hwoarang lifted his head. "I love you too." He took the chain out of Lars's hands and threw it back on the night stand. "I don't need that to know. I have you. That's enough." He amorously placed his lips on Lars's and slipped his tongue into his mouth, before commencing on yet another round of lovemaking.

"Damn it, we're out of milk again" Lars muttered as he stuck his head into the fridge. Hwoarang looked over concernedly. "You know, if you keep up that habit, you're gonna catch a cold or something." Lars pulled his head out of the fridge. "You know you love it. I'm going to the store to buy some milk. You need anything?"

"Nah, I'm good" Hwoarang replied as he returned his attention to his bowl of cereal. Lars walked over and planted a kiss on his cheek. "Try not to miss me too much." Hwoarang looked up smirking. "Don't flatter yourself."

Hwoarang smiled as he played around with his soggy cereal flakes. It's funny how life turns out. He and Lars were both fighters by nature, and yet now life was a stable flow of events. Three tournaments ago, if someone had told him he was going to be involved in a relationship, he'd have laughed in their face. He'd probably would have punched them if they said it was going to be with another man, and would have murdered them if they said it was going to be with someone of Mishima blood. "But now" he thought contentedly "I wouldn't have it any other way."

The ringing doorbell interrupted his contemplations. "Probably forgot his wallet" he muttered as he got up to answer the door. When he opened it, he saw not Lars but the first love of his life, Jin Kazama standing before him. Time stood still as he took in the gravity of the situation. He hadn't changed at all. The bangs of his hair still fell softly on his forehead. His lips were still soft and seductive and set in a slight smirk. His eyes were still the same, intense and searching, although something had changed in them. They seemed less harsh now, conveying open warmth that wasn't there before. All Hwoarang could do was stare with an agape mouth and rounded eyes.

A full five minutes passed before either of them spoke. Hwoarang lifted his hand and placed his forehead in his palm. "This isn't happening. I'm dreaming." Jin's mouth curled into a half smile as he stepped forward and placed a hand around Hwoarang's waist and pulled him closer. "I promise you you're not dreaming" he whispered before moving in closer. Hwoarang's heart raced as his lips met those cupid bow ones who he kissed so often. They still had the same soft texture he remembered, like feathers from an angel's wings. They fitted together perfectly with his, without any hesitation or awkward movements. They had done this too many times for him to forget. He thought his lungs were going to give way for lack of air as the kiss broke apart. His head was dizzy from all the confusion.

"I missed that." Jin's low voice penetrated the Korean, aggravating his state of lightheadedness. Jin placed a hand on his cheek and looked deeply into his eyes. "I missed you. So much."

"Jin… I – How, uh?" Jin set free a soft laugh. "Try syllables in your sentences." Hwoarang just stared blankly. "How?" he whispered. Jin began stroking Hwoarang's cheek with his thumb. "I owe you a lot of answers. Can we talk?" Hwoarang nodded. "But not here. Give me a minute." Jin nodded.

Hwoarang raced inside the apartment and found a pen and note pad on the kitchen counter. His hand shook violently as he scribbled: _Gone out for a walk, be back later_. It was amazing that after such a long period of time Jin still had this effect on him. He dashed out of the apartment and closed the door behind him. Jin looked at him longingly and placed his hand comfortingly on his shoulder. The Korean felt his heart race to the point of bursting. "Please don't do that" he said softly. Jin raised an eyebrow. Hwoarang looked at him with a pained face. "It's just that… this is all happening too fast. It took me a long time to get…" He left his sentence incomplete. How could he tell Jin he was over him if this was how he felt right now? This was all getting too much. Jin's face fell. "I understand." He reluctantly withdrew his hand.

The two of them walked in silence as they headed out into the city. Occasionally, Jin would steal a glance at Hwoarang and see a face of turmoil gaze vacantly at the ground. He wanted to hug him and whisper that he was here now, and that everything was going to be alright. Out of respect he restrained himself. This must still be too much for Hwoarang to handle at once. He had to ease into it. Suddenly the copper head stopped in his tracks. Jin was taken aback at the abruptness of it all, but hid it for the sake of what was to come. They stood outside a school playground. Inside, the children were oblivious to their presence and continued to frolic about the carefully manicured lawns without a care in the world.

"I guess… this is as good a place as any." Hwoarang face gave away nothing. His voice was wrecked with indifference. He looked exhausted. Jin took a step closer. "You know, if you're not ready for this, we don't have to do it." Hwoarang turned his head and gave him a weak smile before returning his line of vision to the children. "No, it's not that. I just didn't expect this to be happening when I got up this morning." Jin smiled knowingly. Out on the ground, a group of boys and girls gathered around what seemed to be a soccer ball to pick out teams.

"Why now?" Hwoarang's voice broke the stillness in the air between them. "Why didn't you come earlier?" Jin's gaze shifted downwards. "I couldn't come back until I was sure. I got rid of it." Hwoarang's neck snapped around in surprise. "You got rid of the Devil Gene?" There was no mistaking the awe in his voice. Jin smiled and nodded. Hwoarang returned his attention to the playground. The kids had now formed their teams and were in the midst of playing their juvenile version of a soccer match. So far, it was an even game. Jin shifted uncomfortably on his feet. "Look Hwoarang, I know I should have come back to you earlier. But I wanted to make sure that it really had left me and it was safe for me to return. If I hurt you again, I couldn't bear it." Guilt flashed in his eyes. Hwoarang afforded him a look of sympathy. "That wasn't your fault."

"It was. I lost control and it took over me." Silence yet again. "Hwoarang, do you know why I did it?" Jin's voice was soft and gentle. Hwoarang knew that tone too well. He sighed. "Because you wanted to be innocent?"

"Because I wanted to be with you. More than anything that I wanted for myself."

A roar erupted from the ground. One of the teams had scored a goal and was running wild on the field. Hwoarang turned to face Jin. "Can you take back all those nights I spent alone? All those tears I cried? All those moments when I was too heartbroken and couldn't? I got kicked out of the dojo because of you." His eyes welled up and there was a distinct element of tempered rage in his voice. Jin put an arm around his waist. "I wish I could erase all of those things for you" he said softly. "But I am here now." Hwoarang tensed at Jin's touch but permitted it anyway. The hand around him now was different to the one that comforted him this morning. Fate was a fickle god. "How'd you find me?" he asked. "Nina." Jin's reply was smooth and simple. Hwoarang's head was starting to get dizzy again. "Is that so?" he murmured out loud. "Damn that blonde bitch." Another bout of cries came from the field as the other team scored this time.

"Did she tell you about me and Lars?" Jin's face darkened as his uncle's name was mentioned. Hwoarang took some small sadistic satisfaction that the topic of his relationship with Lars got to Jin. After all, he should feel some of the swirling brew of emotion he was caught up in right now. "Do you love him?" Jin's question sliced through the red head like an icy blade. A spark of fury ignited in his eyes as he turned to face him. "Yes, I do love him" he said defensively. He felt the hand around his waist tighten its grip as he was brought inches away from the face that could strike chords of love in heart with a mere glance. Jin looked at him with furrowed eyebrows. His words were so soft that Hwoarang could barely here them at all. "More than me?" Hwoarang turned his head to the side. The foundations of his world he had so carefully built over the past month were starting to crumble. "Such is the effect of Jin Kazama" he thought acidly to himself.

Jin took the opportunity to gently tug at the Korean's earlobe in between his teeth, causing him to release a heavy exhalation of weariness. His mouth then hovered over his ear. "You didn't answer my question." It took all of Hwoarang's resolve not to simply melt right there and then at the breathy words. Hwoarang thought of Lars, of how he must have returned from the store by now with the same brand of milk he always buys even though Hwoarang had told him to save money and buy a cheaper one. He thought of how he must have found the scrawled note and half-filled bowl of cereal and innocently thought that he must have simply got frustrated and needed a walk to get some air. He flooded with guilt. He turned to face Jin with a blank slate of a face. It was all he could manage at this point in time. "I don't have an answer."

"You mean you don't know?" Hwoarang let out a soft laugh. "No… I just don't want to know." Jin pulled his head back slightly. "He'll never love you the way I can. What we had… you'll never have with him." Hwoarang smiled slightly. "Perhaps not. But he's there when I need him." Jin's expression swam into a mixture of anger and guilt. That was a low blow, but he deserved it. Hwoarang's hand hesitantly reached up and turned Jin's head to face him. "What is it that you want Jin?" The longing in Jin's eyes was hard to miss. "I want you." His voice was breaking with emotion.

"Maybe its time we head back?" Hwoarang's question was tentative, but this 'walk' needed to come to an end fast. This entire situation was becoming emotionally exhausting. Thoughts of frustration and confusion chased each other around in his head like rabid dogs. Jin nodded his head to show his agreement and they headed back to the apartment. Occasionally they would make trivial observations about their surroundings, like the old ice-cream van making its rounds around the city or the facades of the city's landmark buildings, but neither of them dared to push the issue of resuming their relationship. When it came right down to it, they both were afraid of the same thing. In the rules of the world, hearts are the only objects that can be broken over and over again.

They weren't far from the apartment when Jin stopped. Hwoarang looked at him questioningly, but then understood. The awkwardness of Jin coming face to face with Lars was appreciable, even if it hadn't happened yet. "I'm staying at the Hotel Exxaron. Will you come and see me some time?" Hwoarang flinched slightly, but knew he owed Jin some sort of closure. "Sure."

"See you around." As Hwoarang watched Jin walk away, he felt the entire world weigh on his shoulders, and his head drowned in entropy. Fate was a fickle god indeed.

As he entered the apartment, he saw Lars pack away groceries into the fridge and cupboards. The blonde turned around and gave him a smile. "Funny, isn't it? I go in for just milk and come back with a bunch of other crap too. Enjoy your walk?" Hwoarang gave him a sad smile. "Not really." Lars's conferred him a look of concern, which made him feel all the more worse. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah, I'm fine" Hwoarang lied. "Everything's good."

That night, as they lay in bed, Hwoarang looked over at a sleeping Lars. He was reminded of the morning after they first slept together. He remembered how he envied Lars for being able to sleep so soundly. "Of course he can" Hwoarang thought "he doesn't know what's happening. Every time he talks to me I lie through my teeth and it's killing me." He glanced over at the night stand. The gold chain still lay there, glinting away in the luminescent bath of moonlight like a beacon of the love Lars held for him. Jin's words echoed in his mind: "_He'll never love you. Not the way I can. What we had… you'll never have with him_." The metaphorical dagger continued to twist its way in Hwoarang's heart, carving new wounds and enhancing the old ones. Whichever way you looked at it, someone was bound to get hurt.

The next morning was a quiet affair, with Hwoarang apologetically offering mumbles and one word answers to Lars's attempts to try and make conversation. "Hwoarang are you sure you're OK?" Lars voice was vigorously marinated in alarm at the sudden turn of Hwoarang's mood. Hwoarang drifted back from his melancholy reverie and looked up at Lars. "I'm fine, I promise you." Lars raised an eyebrow in suspicion. Hwoarang sighed. "I swear to you." Lars still didn't look satisfied, but he didn't press the issue. "Alright, I'm off to the store. We're out of bread. I should have bought it yesterday. Wanna come with me?" Hwoarang shook his head silently. "OK, I'm off." When he leant down to kiss Hwoarang, the Korean grabbed him by the collar and bruised their lips together in an impassioned kiss. Lars granted Hwoarang's forceful tongue access to his mouth. Hwoarang slowly broke off the kiss and watched Lars raise his eyebrows in complete surprise. "Whoa… what was that for?" Lars asked, still in shock. Hwoarang shrugged his shoulders. "Just."  
>"Alrighty then… I'm off." He walked out and shut the door behind him. Hwoarang cursed himself, tears welling up in his eyes. "Fuck." He had found an answer, even if it hadn't been the one he was looking for.<p>

After hastily scribbling a note, Hwoarang sprinted to the bedroom to pack a bag. Butterflies were colliding in each other in his stomach. Nausea rose up from within him, but he willed it down. As he was about to leave he cast his eyes on the gold chain. His fingers traced its delicate path. He picked it up and placed it around his neck. He closed his eyes and felt himself fall under the weight of his remorse.

In the hedonistic luxury of the penthouse suite in the Hotel Exxaron, Jin stared uninterestedly out of the window. The last thing he wanted to do was to throw Hwoarang's life into utter disarray, but… "I need you Hwoarang. If I don't have you, I wouldn't have reason to live" he contemplated aloud. Yesterday's meeting had hurt Jin more than he let on. He could understand anger, sadness or even madness; but Hwoarang's disillusionment and indifference wounded him more than anything. He was pretty sure it was feigned, but still… Had he stupidly been expecting for Hwoarang to have been waiting for him? Part of him did. Or hoped to. Still, maybe he was better off with Lars. Someone who had shown love to him when he needed it the most. "He's not coming" he thought forlornly.

A rapid knock came on the door followed by the anxious shuffling of feet. Jin opened the door and saw Hwoarang stand before him. He clutched onto a bag and his features were etched in quiet desperation. "Promise me you'll never leave me again" he said breathlessly. Jin's arms stretched out and pulled him into a needy embrace. "I promise." Hwoarang's guilt momentarily subsided at the whisper, but he knew it would be back. But for now, in this place and time, it was enough.

_PRESENT DAY_

Hwoarang turned his head towards the bathroom as Jin exited, a white towel wrapped sinfully low around his hips. Hwoarang walked over and pulled him into a loose embrace, nuzzling his neck to try and find comfort from his private hell. Behind Hwoarang's ear and leading down to his Adam's apple, Jin planted kisses so light Hwoarang thought they weren't there at all. A tender bite on his throat elicited a gratifying moan from the copper head.

Jin reached over for the lotion, but Hwoarang stopped him. "Let me do you." His request was quiet and pleading. With a wayward smile, Jin acceded to the request and lay down seductively on the bed, waiting to be ravished. Hwoarang applied the lotion to his fingers and slid one into Jin, causing him to arch and moan. Once he had surpassed the barrier of pain, Hwoarang started planting kisses on Jin's body, as if trailing some sort of map that only he could see. His inserted another finger before moving up to Jin's face and softly brushing his lips against his forehead.

Hwoarang positioned himself carefully before entering Jin in one fluid thrust. Jin screwed his eyes shut and flung his head back, exposing his neck. As Hwoarang moved in and out, he lowered himself and gently sucked at Jin's throat, intensifying the carnal moans from his lover underneath him. The Korean's movements became more powerful and urgent, his breaths exiting him more quickly. As the rain fell turbulently outside, the two lovers lost themselves to each other, ignorant of their surroundings, their eyes locked the other, as if afraid that the other would simply evaporate. With a final lusty moan, they were both hit with the full force of an earth-shattering orgasm, their bodies convulsing and writhing in ecstasy.

Hwoarang pulled out of Jin and lay on top of him, physically spent from the combination of lovemaking and the façade of happiness. A warm hand stroked his back as he gazed out the window to a world in which truth and falsehoods were indistinguishable from each other. His world, a creation of the hollowness he felt inside. As his eyes started to close, he thought of Lars and felt the coarse touch of regret lull him to sleep.

**Wow, my longest chapter to date! Thank you to everyone who encouraged me to continue with this story, this one is for you! Please review as your thoughts are always welcome :D **

**PS: This is to be continued in chapter 9… **


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9: Nothing**

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Tekken or any of its characters

"We don't ever mention this."

"Come on, you know you liked it."

"It was convenient. You're convenient."

"Well darling, I hate to break it to you but if I'm so convenient, why are you still here and not chasing after him?" A thunderclap echoed angrily in the distance though it was nothing compared to the fury ascending within Lars Alexandersson. He shot a naked Nina Williams a corrosive stare. Her lips curled into a cold sneer of triumph as she brushed a stray lock of blonde hair out of her face and neatly tucked it behind her ear. She wrapped herself up in the bed sheet and walked over to the bathroom. "Face it doll", she called over the humming flow of the shower, "I have you by the balls in more ways than one."

Lars stared after her, his temper subsiding thanks to a glow of humiliation. Even if it was difficult to admit, she did have a point. Technically there was nothing stopping him from going after Hwoarang and telling him that he loved him. Nothing except the paralyzing sense of guilt. "He's happy, that's all that matters" he mentally reprimanded himself. He lifted the lamp that stood on the night stand and irately threw it against the wall. As it fractured into tiny pieces Lars felt his heart break along with it. His eyes grew moist and his lips moved in the slightest quiver before he regained his composure. "This life is not worth living" he ruminated desolately, staring at the porcelain pieces, hoping somehow the act of destruction would be reversed and the lamp would be restored to its original state. Whoever said time heals all wounds lied. It just made everything worse.

_TWO MONTHS AGO_

The Swede walked back up the stairs to his apartment with a loaf of freshly baked bread in one hand and the newspaper in the other. He perused through his memories of what happened this morning with a sense of deep concern. "Something happened yesterday during that walk. But what?" He wanted to help Hwoarang but whatever the trouble was, the Korean gave no clues. Lars wanted to help him but it was frustrating to try and fix something when you didn't know what was wrong – or even if something was wrong in the first place.

When he reached the apartment, he noticed that the door was locked. He thought it strange at first, but then deduced that Hwoarang must be on another walk. "Let's hope he's in a better mood when he comes back" he muttered cynically. He opened the door and walked in, placing the bread on the counter. His eyes caught the note next to it. The handwriting was untidy and rushed. Hwoarang must certainly have been in quite a hurry. He then scanned the words: _I'm sorry. Please forgive me_.

Lars's heart started beating out a rapid tattoo as he read the words over and over again. This didn't bode well. What was he sorry for? What did Hwoarang do? "Is… he coming back?" His thoughts flooded with consternation. "Did he go away, or did he…" An image of his mother hanging from the ceiling flashed into his mind. He shook his head violently to chase it away. "No", he whispered "don't go there." He stared the letter, hoping there was some other explanation. "He'll be back. I know he will" he said with a confidence that did not quell his fears. He paced about the apartment for five minute, before rushing through the door. "Screw this" he muttered as he slammed the door shut.

For hours that simply would not end Lars roamed the city, trying to find his Korean. He walked, ran, asked and sought all to no avail. With each failed attempt, he grew more and more restless. "Damn it Hwoarang, where the hell are you?" he thought anxiously. By the time night fell, Lars had exhausted the entire city in his search. He was running on pure adrenaline and unwilling to give up looking, but knew that if his chances were slim of finding Hwoarang in the day, they would be even slimmer at night. Burdened with a heavy heart, he headed back to an empty home to drown himself in the disquiet echoes of his thoughts.

Lars didn't even try and sleep that night. Instead he lay on his bed, staring unblinkingly up at the ceiling. In his head, he yet again replayed the previous day's events. "Did I miss out on something? Was he unhappy with me? Was he just pretending all this time?" He turned and gazed out of the window with hollow eyes. It had taken just five words to crush any sense of happiness he had. Old wounds from the past tore open as he thought back to fourteen years ago, when the world had crumbled around him as it had today. If Hwoarang really had taken his own life… "there would be no reason to carry on mine."

Night eventually conceded its reign to day as Lars headed over to the bathroom. Before stepping into the shower he looked at himself in the mirror. Staring back at him was a man who lost everything. The past twenty-four hours seemed to erase the past couple of weeks, displacing it to another lifetime. "This can't be happening. Not again" he thought. He headed for a quick shower, before randomly throwing on a shirt and a pair of jeans before heading out again.

The chattering and buzz of the people around him fell on deaf ears as he walked around aimlessly. He cynically appreciated the fact that the people around him seemed oblivious to his pain. They continued in the mundane cycle of their lives as if nothing happened. They didn't know that walking past them was a living nexus of heartache. Lars cast his eyes to the ground as his feet walked on their own to some unknown destination. His head searched for the answers that Hwoarang could not give him. "I secretly hated you Lars. I never loved you. I was never yours." Each possibility was more pathetic than the next. Eventually, only one possibility came to mind. "I guess he just missed him too much. I wasn't enough… again" he thought forlornly.

Lars eventually found himself outside the park where he first met the Korean. It seemed ridiculous that Hwoarang would be here, yet the Swede still allowed himself to walk inside and steep himself in longing. He made his way to the clearing where he first saw Hwoarang laying underneath a tree lost in thought. He stood in front of the tree, staring at its base as if expecting the love of his life to materialize at any moment. He sighed deeply, and felt all hope escape him.

"Ah, there you are." A familiar voice came from behind him. Lars turned around to see his half-nephew looking right back at him, clear as the sunlight surrounding him. Jin Kazama exuded an aura of confidence and mystery, not different to the one he had when he headed the Zaibatsu, though this time, there was something different. Time had done nothing to change his intense looks. "You're alive?" Lars's question normally would have been brimming with shock, but yesterday had drained him from feeling anything. Deadpan was all he could offer. Jin smirked arrogantly. "And kicking. Disappointed?" Lars raised an eyebrow at the rhetoric, but then put two and two together. "You're why he left."

"Smart lad." Lars's eyes narrowed. "Why are you here?"

"You know, if this situation involved anyone but you I wouldn't be here. But because it's you, I'll give you some advice."

"Where is Hwoarang?" Jin smiled. "You don't get to know that. What you do get to know is that I'm here for him now."

Lars scoffed coldly at Jin's remark. "After all this time, now you're being the supportive lover? Where you there for him when his life shattered to pieces? Where you there to help him pick them up? Where you the one who showed him that life was worth living?" Jin walked forward until he was right in front of Lars. "I couldn't help that" he said simply. "I did what I did in Egypt for him as well, not just for me. If I could have returned sooner, I would have. But I had to be sure that I had rid myself of the Devil Gene." A wind started to pick up as Lars stared at Jin. Jin responded with an intense gaze. "Look, Hwoarang and I are leaving the city tomorrow. I doubt you'll ever see him again. Thanks for… being there for him." The last few words sounded a little coerced to Lars. "But, I think you need to let him go." Lars turned away, sickened. Jin sensed the older man's emotions. "It's not like you had what we had."

"Am I expected to take solace in that?" asked Lars coldly.

"No. But it's all I can give you. You and I both know he'll be happier with me, else he wouldn't have left." Jin turned around and walked away, leaving Lars in a private pocket of nothingness.

The walk back home was unconscious at best. Lars had lost all will to protest against his subconscious. He held his head down low and kept his eyes fixed on the ground, occasionally looking up to make sure he didn't walk into anyone. "You and I both know he'll be happier with me." The words had taken the breath right out of him. Hwoarang's note was nothing compared to Jin's speech. Maybe Jin was right – he wouldn't have left if he didn't feel he'd be better off with him. "At least he didn't kill himself" Lars thought sardonically. "So why do I feel like I'm the one who got murdered?"

As Lars lay on the bed for another sleepless night, the hollowness inside of him started to fill with pain. The deferred torture of the entire ordeal, from the previous day up until now, had finally caught up with him. Undulating sorrow ripped him up from the inside. This was heartache in its most pure form. With a frustrated roar that drew upon all the suffering he had, he landed his bare fist against the wall. As the tears started to seep down from his eyes, he couldn't tell where his physical pain ended and where his emotional one began. To him, it didn't make any difference at all.

_YESTERDAY_

The air in the bar was heavily perfumed with alcohol and stale cigarette smoke. The barman swept an eye across the room to take in the patrons. It was the usual crowd: tired businessmen who had a long day at work, kids who just turned legal, the odd hooker or two and the small group of tourists who had no place else to go. And the new guy. He was relatively new – he started coming here about two months ago. He never said much and never spoke to anyone, except to ask for another drink. He also had a strange drinking habit that baffled the barman. On some nights, he would only have one or two drinks and then leave. On others, he'd be the last one out, and drunkenly hailing a cab. "People like that drink to forget the pain" he thought to himself. Tonight was the former. He just kept to himself and nursed the glass of Jack Daniels he held in his hand.

Lars took another sip of his drink, letting the distilled ethanol mull in his mouth before swallowing. It had been two months since Hwoarang left. The longest two months of his life. Lars often wondered that if it had taken so long for just eight weeks to haul by, how long until death's embrace? "Could probably end it all now" he thought brazenly. He had also gained a new appreciation for his mother. He now understood what she had gone through for those last few months of her life by having been enlightened by the same depression. Suicide was fast becoming a lover that grew more and more attractive to him. The only thing that scared him was how available everything seemed to be. He saw possible options in everything from painkillers to the belts he kept in his wardrobe. "It's a sign" he pondered.

"Buy a lady a drink soldier?" asked a soft, seductive voice. Lars turned to see a curvaceous blonde woman smiling at him. Her eyes were limpid, radiating a mixture of playfulness and intimidation. Her hair was swept up in a loose ponytail and the red leather jacket she wore tightly hugged her body. Lars let out a snort. "I didn't expect to see you here Nina." The woman laughed lightly before settling herself in the barstool next to him. "Hey, I can let my hair down once in a while." Lars took swig of his drink before shaking his head. "Not what I meant." Nina signaled the barman. "Dirty martini please." She turned back to Lars. "What did you mean?" Lars analyzed her carefully. "Just that I thought that this place would be too… rustic for a lady of your taste." The barman handed Nina her drink. "Maybe" she said before taking a sip of her martini. "Ooh, that just hits the spot. But then again, I'd never peg you down for this sort of place either." Lars lips curled into a half smile. "Another Daniels please. You can tell Jin that I won't steal him back. There's no need for you to spy on me."

Nina fished out the toothpick-impaled olive in her drink before discarding it. "I haven't heard from Jin in over two and a half months. So all that spying I did was purely for my own purposes." Lars raised an eyebrow. "So you have been spying on me."

"You should be flattered. I don't spy on just anyone." Lars gave a small chuckle. "I suppose not. You have quite a reputation from what I've heard." Nina smiled again. "Half of its crap, just for your info."

"Which half?"

"Pick one."

Lars fell silent. He stroked the rim of his glass, lost in thought. He turned to Nina again. "Can I ask you a question?"

"No I was never a teen prostitute, incase you're wondering. That's just bull Anna likes to make up."

"No not that."

"Then?" Lars took a mouthful of his whisky. He probably would want to be drunk for this. "Why do you work for Jin?" Nina paused to drain her glass, before signaling to the barman that she wanted another martini. "Well, at first it was because he was the only one who had the balls to stand up to Kazuya and Heihachi. And he was one of the first, not like these kids like Leo. But you want to know the God's honest truth?"

"What?"

"I did it to piss Anna off." She burst out laughing, slamming her hand repeatedly on the counter. Lars afforded her a brief smile as she her laughter subsided. She returned it. "Well, what did you expect? I mean she was working for Kazuya, its only logical I go and work for Jin." She took a sip. "But honestly, like I told you in Egypt, he poured everything he had into chasing that mumbo jumbo. He's just that kind of person – he'll put his entire life on the line for something he believes in." Lars mulled over her words while sipping his drink. "Now can I ask you a question?" asked Nina. Lars nodded. "How'd you become an alcoholic?" Lars laughed. "I'm not an alcoholic."

"And yet you come here everyday."

"Yeah."

"And you drink. Sometimes you even close the place down."

"I suppose."

"And you still don't think you're an alcoholic?"

"See, you're missing out on an important fact. Alcoholics drink because they're addicted. I drink to forget." Nina's eyes grew a little sympathetic. She moved closer to Lars. "Forget what?" she asked softly. Lars's eyes misted over slightly at her question. "Forget that he left me. Forget that I've been living on desolation for the last two months. And if I keep it up, forget that I ever met him." Nina scanned Lars's face trying to gauge the full extent of his pain. "Are you mad at him?" Her question stuck inside Lars's chest. "Doesn't matter, does it? He's not coming back" he whispered. Nina leaned in slowly to his ear. "Can I help you forget?" she asked huskily before gently nibbling his ear.

Lars wanted to refuse her advance. He wanted to say no, but in his intoxicated state, Nina's whispery request made him lightheaded. As she placed a kiss on an exposed part of his neck, he closed his eyes and remembered his Korean. This was all too much. Caught in the storm of his emotions, he just wanted to run away. He turned to Nina with a blank expression. For the slightest second, Nina looked him in the eyes and saw the bottomless abyss of wrecked beauty stare back at her. She was taken aback when his lips gently rushed against hers, not invading or pursuing, just being there. "Take me home." His voice was pleading. She looked at him searchingly. "You got it babe."

_PRESENT _

The Swede continued to stare at the broken pieces of lamp. He felt disgust rising in his throat, threatening to erupt from his mouth. Had it really come to this? Was he so desperate to use someone else to forget his own pain? "That's what he did" said a small insidious voice in his head. "So why can't you stay mad at him?" said another voice. "Why can't you go after him and tell him he's your world and that you'd die for him?" Lars took a shaky breath in. "Because he wasn't mine to begin with."

**I apologize for the delay with this chapter, things have been really hectic. But I promise there is more to come so please stick around Also your reviews really do help, so please keep them coming.**


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10: Don't Trust Me**

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Tekken or any of its characters

Lars amorously blanketed Hwoarang's body with his own as he kissed his way up the Korean's neck; before pulling up to gaze at the living beauty beneath him. "I love you. You know that, right?" he asked, his gaze penetrating his lover right down to his soul. "I know" was the soft reply before an unchastely kiss charged with eons of passion rendered the Korean's voice incoherent. Lars's head moved to the side and his teeth gently latched onto Hwoarang's earlobe. "So why did you leave?" Hwoarang shut his eyes and wrapped his hands around the Swede's neck, fearing that if his lover might evaporate if he let go. "You know why."

"Do you love me?" The question was soft and unchallenging, but the copper head still flinched at its existence. Lars gently kissed the spot underneath Hwoarang's ear. "Answer me please" he begged quietly. Hwoarang opened his mouth to reply, but no sound came forth. He tried again, but still his voice would not obey. Lars traced a silken trail back to Hwoarang's mouth with his lips and tenderly explored the warm cavern with his tongue. Hwoarang moaned as the kiss broke, raising his head to try and hold onto the lips he so craved. Lars looked at him again, this time with a knowing smirk frolicking on his face. "If you didn't love me, I wouldn't be here would I?"

Hwoarang's eyes flew open to a concerned Jin staring at him. It had only been a dream, but it had felt so real. He could still feel Lars on him, his kisses staining his skin and leaving marks of betrayal for Jin to see. Jin cupped Hwoarang's cheek in his palm. "You were moaning in your sleep. Are you OK?" Hwoarang looked away guiltily. "Yeah, I'm OK."

"You know this has been happening a lot lately."

"They're just dreams Jin. There's nothing to worry about." Jin withdrew his hand and looked at Hwoarang, analyzing his every feature in minute detail, trying to discover the cause of the copper head's subconscious worries. "I'm here for you now" he said softly. "You know that, right?" Hwoarang's eyes flew up sharply to meet Jin's. His turned cold inside to hear the exact same words that Lars had said in his dream. He stared at Jin momentarily before bowing his head to avoid anymore of the scrutinizing gaze. "Yeah, I know." Jin leaned in closer. "Do you still love him?" Hwoarang gave a defiant snort while keeping his eyes firmly fixed to his feet. "How can you even ask me that question?" Jin remained silent. Part of him was ashamed that he asked, but the other part wanted an answer. Of late, Hwoarang seemed to be lost in his own world, and seemed to withdraw from everything around him, including Jin. "You know why I'm asking." Hwoarang laughed hollowly, wounding Jin even more. "Why, because we haven't fucked in over two weeks?" The brusqueness took Jin by surprise. "That's not I meant."

"Then what did you mean?" Again, silence was conveyed as a response. Jin looked up, sadness lining his dark eyes. "What is it that you want from me?"

"I want you to stop being so damn paranoid and trust me for starters."

"I'm sorry-"

"Jin, if I was still in love with him, would I have left everything I had in that relationship to be with you? No I wouldn't. I'm here, with YOU. The trouble is you don't seem to fucking see that!" Hwoarang got up and headed for the door. "I'm going for a walk." With the slam of the door, Jin wondered where he had lost the Hwoarang he met those weeks ago. "Damn you Lars" he whispered to an audience that refused to listen.

Hwoarang stopped in the driveway before turning back to look at the house. He exhaled in frustration. It had been a surprise from Jin, a celebration of the next step in their relationship. "It makes a nice change from the hotels" he had said. Hwoarang had been perturbed more than anything else. To him, the house heralded the next inevitable foundation in their relationship, something which he wasn't sure he was ready to lay down; especially with Lars haunting his psyche. This was happening all to fast and he couldn't catch his breath. It was like being in a car with no brakes: he knew he was going to crash; it was only a matter of time.

As he walked down the cement pavement, his mind went back to the dream. Lars's mouth softly bruising his own with kisses, his tongue wantonly imploring for entrance into his mouth, his voice seductively flowing into his ear… it had all been so real. He could have been right there with him, making sweet love. "Amazing whenever I dream of him now, all I think of is sex" remarked Hwoarang cynically to himself. He unconsciously tugged the gold chain around his neck. The dreams had started two weeks ago when he and Jin first moved into the house. Initially they had been innocent enough – Lars smiling in the park where they had first met, or him in his apartment lying down on the couch whispering sweet nothings to Hwoarang. After that, they evolved into something akin to an aching fantasy, heavily punctuated with the physical neediness of his naked body. Hwoarang's nights had become a playground for the two of them to tear into each other and become one.

Yet, it wasn't just the sex that Hwoarang missed. His thoughts often wandered to Lars, wondering how he was or what he was doing. Each time he did, the guilt never failed to make an appearance. Lars had been good to him at a time where all he wanted to do was make the world go away, and how was he repaid? By five words that had hardly taken ten seconds to scribble down. Each night since he came back to Jin, he sought refuge in the fact that Lars would be moving on with his life – finding someone else who deserved his purity, someone who would make him happy in return for the sheer magnitude of the bliss he would give to them. It hurt like hell, but it did its part to sooth the burning shame that raged within the Korean. "I wonder what he'd say if I saw him again" was a melancholy thought that often made its presence known in his head. It was improbable, but what if there was another tournament? Or by some cruel twist of fate, they ran into each other? Each time, the answer was the same: "The sick thing is I want him to be mad at me. Nothing else." The penalties of 'anything else' would devastate the Korean and he knew it.

Hwoarang's gaze eventually landed on a lonely stone in front of him. Lifting his leg, he let the front of his shoe deliver a magnificent kick, and watched the stone's trajectory as it hurtled through the air and plummeted back to the ground. He felt a numb sense of irritation rise up inside of him. Jin had somehow picked up on all of this. Not surprisingly if Hwoarang had looked at it in retrospect: Jin had always been an exceptionally perceptive person, and Hwoarang didn't really make any attempt to cover up what he was thinking when he withdrew into his thoughts anyway. Today's altercation with Jin had been the result of many tense moments in the past fortnight, with potentially more to come. It wasn't that he didn't love Jin – he was just mad at his subtle attempts to make it seem as if he'd been here all along. His efforts had not gone unnoticed – the copper head had some inkling that Jin might ask of his feelings towards Lars. He was even more irate at himself for still having those feelings for Lars, but it was like an itch that refused to go away. The inner hurricane had manifested itself in a variety of ways, the most destructive of which lay in the bedroom: he couldn't be intimate with Jin anymore. To his credit, Jin had tried all the seduction techniques he knew, but Hwoarang coldly feigned fatigue or migraines to get rid of him. Lars had permanently embedded himself into Hwoarang, and clearly had no intention of letting go. He had made his mark on his mind and heart, and the Korean feared that if this kept up, his soul would be next.

"What the fuck am I supposed to do about you?" asked Hwoarang furiously to the fresh air. "I can't forget you; I can't be with you… I just don't know anymore." He hung his head in frustration. "You want to know the damn truth? I wouldn't have left if I knew it was going to be like this." The confession stung him, but he bitterly accepted the truth. This miasma of confusion was his own doing, and it seemed the more he tried to make it right, the more entangled he ended up. He hung his head in agony, his breathing deepening to try and calm himself. "I do love you" he replied, but the answer was too late for a lover that was far out of his reach.

As he headed back to the house that wasn't home, Hwoarang felt a strange feeling of audaciousness come over him. Instantly, his head cleared up, and he wondered why the solution had eluded him for so long. If he wasn't able to get rid of Lars from him, then there was only one option. It was a long shot, but a shot nonetheless, perhaps his only chance at ever getting his sanity back.

When he returned home, Hwoarang searched the entire house before finding Jin lying in bed, his eyes fixated on the ceiling. Hwoarang leaned into the doorway. He had never seen Jin so fragile before, so openly vulnerable and marred. "That fight must have really torn him up" thought the Korean forlornly. He entered the room and climbed up next to Jin, closing the distance between their bodies. He let a hand delicately reach up to the brunette's chin and turned it to face him. The hurt in his eyes glowed in the soft sunlight that penetrated the room. Hwoarang lifted his neck and pressed his lips against Jin's, catching the bottom lip in between his own. Jin turned his body to face the redhead, and pulled him closer so that their heads touched lightly. He brushed a strand of hair off the Korean's face and bathed solemnly in the beauty of his lover. "I'm sorry" breathed Hwoarang. Jin's eyes cast themselves downwards, unable to face the face of the only person who could ever hurt him. "What do you want from me Hwoarang?" he whispered hoarsely. Hwoarang brought his hand up and lightly brushed it through the dark forest of Jin's spikes. "I want you, only you."

"You have me, you always will." Hwoarang smiled slightly. "Then that's all that matters, isn't it?" He grabbed Jin and rolled on top of him, laying a kiss upon his wanting lips. He made his way down to his neck, while his hands skillfully undid the buttons of his shirt. Jin gently placed his hands on the Korean's tanned biceps and lifted him up to a straddling position. He then lifted himself up and stole a kiss from his lover while removing the undone shirt. Hwoarang pulled back and detached his own shirt before hastily returning to Jin's cupid bow lips. Jin moaned into Hwoarang's mouth, making his neediness known. The Korean moved lower and sinfully attacked Jin's neck, gently nibbling at the hollow. Jin closed his eyes in ecstasy. It had been too long since they'd done this. "I want you so badly" he growled. Hwoarang lifted his head so that their eyes met intensely. Jin's low voice showed that he didn't just want this, he needed it. This was what he wanted all along: for Hwoarang to show that he was the only one that mattered. "Your wish is my command," smirked the Korean, his hand reaching out to undo his pants. Jin grabbed his hands and gazed at him meaningfully. "I want to do this" he whispered, and rolled his lover onto his back. He swooped in for one more kiss before licking a trail down the redhead's delicious body, his head guided by Hwoarang's licentious grip. He savored the clean taste, before his hands reached their prize and rapidly undid the button on the Korean's pants. He teasingly gripped the zipper in between his teeth and slowly pulled it downwards. Hwoarang lifted his legs and Jin dispensed of the pants and underwear. Laying before him was his everything, bare and inviting. He felt a rush of passion surge through his body like electricity. "You belong to me," he said softly, "no one else."

"Jin, shut the fuck up and take your pants off." Jin obeyed the command and carelessly threw his pants on the floor. He lowered his body onto the Korean, their mouths colliding together, hungrily devouring the other. Hwoarang pulled up for a gasp of air and pressed his head against Jin's. "Do it now." Jin needed no further encouragement as he lubed up his erection generously. Hwoarang's body gracefully arched upwards as one of the brunette's fingers entered him. A profligate groan escaped his mouth as it was joined by another one. "Yes" he breathed as Jin slowly entered him. He bit on his lip as he started moving. Jin's pace was slow at first, but picked up. Their breaths were synchronized in moans and cries, as Jin continued to drive his length into the Korean. He looked down to see Hwoarang's hand tightly grip the sheets beneath him in pleasure. A moan that was heavily soaked in desire told him he had been wrong, that he was the only love that the copper head would ever have. With one final thrust, they both erupted in a single cry and were sent into carnal bliss.

Jin lay on top of Hwoarang as he came down from his high, his breathing still slow and deep. "God, have I missed that" he whispered before planting a kiss on Hwoarang's bare chest. Hwoarang let his hand absentmindedly stroke Jin's back as his gaze gradually focused into nothingness. The Swede entered his thoughts again, the errant trophy of his naked body rewarding him for the past couple minutes, but this time he was ready for it. "Don't worry," he thought. "I'm coming for you."

The next morning Hwoarang awoke to a fully dressed Jin in the kitchen and fuming at the coffee maker. He silently crept up to the brunette and wrapped his hands around his waist. "Troubles Kazama?" he asked, planting a kiss on the nape of his neck. "The damn thing won't work!" he said heatedly, throwing his hands up in desperation, before letting them land on the Korean's. Hwoarang took an interested look and picked up on the problem. "Well genius, did you try switching it on?

"Of course, I-" Hwoarang's hand reached over and switched the plug on. Immediately the coffee maker came to life and started to softly hiss before Jin could finish his sentence. He hung his head in mock shame. Hwoarang gently bit at Jin's earlobe. "Anyone ever tell you how sexy you look when you're mad?" Jin smiled as he stroked the copper head's hand. "Anyone ever tell you how sexy you look, period?" Hwoarang laughed softly. He let go of Jin's waist and allowed him to turn around. "I've been meaning to ask you something." Jin's lip lifted into a half smile. Hwoarang breathed out slowly. "You and I, we're gonna be together forever right?"

"Of course."

"So would you mind if I got rid of my stuff?" Jin raised an eyebrow quizzically. "I don't understand."

"I have some stuff back at my apartment in the city that I want to get rid of." If possible, Jin's gaze became even more penetrating. "You want to go back to the city?"

"Just for a couple of days to clear everything up." Jin breaths came in deep and gradual, as if trying to calm himself. Hwoarang immediately knew what was on his mind. It might be too much to risk but he had to try. "This has nothing to do with him."

"Do you want me to come with you?" Hwoarang moved closer. "What's the matter Kazama? You don't trust me?" he whispered seductively. Jin closed his eyes as the Korean's voice washed over him. "You're the only one in the world I do trust."

"Then let me do this alone. Please." Hwoarang pulled back and lightly brushed his fingertips over Jin's lips. Jin sighed and looked at him with every bit of affection he had. What Hwoarang was asking… was it too much? He would trust him with his life and more, but there was just that issue of Lars hanging over his head. He remembered yesterday's argument: how he mortified himself by asking Hwoarang about Lars, and remembering the reaction he had earned. He didn't feel easy about this, but he had to prove to himself that he really could trust Hwoarang. "Alright. But don't be gone for too long."

"I won't. You'd never make it without coffee for that long." Jin smiled as he leant in for a kiss, ignoring the prowling feeling of apprehension budding in his heart.

That afternoon, as Hwoarang entered the outskirts of the city, he felt that feeling of recklessness return to him. Even though he was doing this for purpose, he still got a heady rush out of it. The deception of it all seemed to get him excited for some reason. "I'm a sick bastard" he smiled cynically. He had to get Lars out of his system to ensure that he'd be even remotely happy with Jin. He couldn't stand seeing the Swede every time he closed his eyes; it was a slow death by torture. He knew he still loved him, there was no denying that. "Hopefully, this ends here."

He drove right past his apartment, not even giving it a second glance. He made a mental note to go back there at some point to get rid of his belongings. He'd have to ensure that this went off smoothly so as not to arouse Jin's suspicions. He turned into the familiar street that he had once called home. It had been so long, and yet it only seemed like yesterday. He parked the car off and slowly got out. His stomach did a nervous flip as he gazed up at the apartment. This was it, he was here. There was no turning back now - he'd come too far. He took a breath to calm himself, and then made his way into the building and up the stairs. With each step he took, he remembered each the day he left. "And now I'm back." Once he reached the door, his hand reached out and he looked longingly at it. How he missed this place. He had felt safe here, with him. His hand curled into a fist and gently knocked at the door. "Coming" came the familiar voice. It sent shudders rippling all over him. After some fumbling the door clicked open and Hwoarang came face to face with the man who had held his heart all this time and had never let it. "Hello Lars."

**Uh oh… What is Hwoarang up to? :D Find out next time! Sorry for taking so long, but I've been suffering with exams and mild writer's block, but I'll be able to update a lot quicker from next week onwards. As always, your reviews and comments are always welcome, so please keep them coming in, they help me a lot. **


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11: Too Lost In You**

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Tekken or any of the characters.

Hwoarang's POV:

"You…" His face was completely blank, trying to register the shock. "You're…"

"Here?" I offered, completing his sentence. "You don't have to look so surprised; I didn't come back from the dead or anything."

"No. But someone else did" he said quietly. He turned away, gazing at the door panel emptily. It was like staring into a mirror: I saw myself from two months ago. The roles had reversed here, fate was a cruel mistress. Lars was just so broken, exactly the opposite on what I had been banking against. He looked up to face me again. "Why are you here?"

"Can I come in?"

He moved aside and signaled me to come in. The apartment hadn't changed a bit. Sure, it was a bit messier than when I left it, but it had been perfectly preserved, capturing that moment in time when I'd ripped everything apart. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath in. This was the only place apart from the dojo that I'd called home. This was my sanctuary, more than any hotel or house could ever be. It felt strange to be back here, like I'd returned after some long journey. Not that that comparison was far from the truth - I was here to try and find myself again.

I sat down on the couch, and stared up at Lars. He was in a daze, probably still trying to figure out if this still happening. I smirked playfully. "You're not dreaming. I really am here. Go ahead, touch me." He shook his head dazedly. "I believe you're here. What I want to know is why." I let my gaze fall onto my hands before looking up to answer him. I wasn't really sure I had a clear cut answer myself, so all I could do was be brutally honest with him. "I… I haven't been able to move on from you." He sat down beside me, looking me through such bruised eyes. How could I have hurt him that much? "You're with him now," he said softly, his eyes continuing to suffocate me with guilt. "I'd say that's moving on." I uncomfortably clenched my hands into fists. "Yeah, but that doesn't mean I've forgotten you." I looked at him directly in the eye. "Are you mad at me?" He snorted, and attempted half a smile. I'd gotten a glimpse of the Lars I knew from that, instantaneously remembering all those days we were together. Why was I so stupid to leave him? "I'm not mad at you," he replied, his voice saturated with melancholy. "I never even pretended to be." My mouth opened slightly. How could he not be ripped with fury after what I'd done to him? "Why?" He smiled sadly. "When I first saw your note, I thought you killed yourself. I tore the city apart trying to look for you. Then when I saw Jin at the park-"

"You saw Jin?" I interrupted angrily. My fists tightened further, causing my nails to dig into the milky flesh of my palm. He looked at me in surprise. "Yeah, that's how I found out you were with him."

"Son of a bitch" I muttered furiously. Lars sensed my anger and covered one of the raging spheres of my hands with his own. I gasped slightly at his soothing touch. "It doesn't matter now, does it? You're happier with him." My eyes clouded over at the sadness in voice. I was so ready for him to tear into me about how I broke his heart, to have him yell every profanity known to man at me, even beat me senseless; but not for this. I was unprepared to have him sit there and smilingly forgive me, while his heart was blatantly shattering within him. "How can you forgive so easily? After what I've done to you?" I whispered. His grip around my hand tightened slightly. "Because you weren't mine to have in the first place."

I sat like that with him for about fifteen minutes, marveling the beauty of this soul next to me. He didn't have a trace of ferocity inside of him. Instead he took on the pain as if it were his own fault. "Lars" I whispered thickly. My voice gave away the monster of shame inside of me. "Lars, I am so sorry for what I did to you." He vehemently shook his head. "Don't be. I couldn't make you happy, not like the way he does."

"But that's just it! He…" I hung my head in confusion. The clarity and confidence I had yesterday deserted me. "He does make me happy. The only trouble is you." He frowned. "Me?" I nodded. "I can't forget you. You're haunting me." He looked at me seriously, and then cracked into a short laugh. "Haunting you? How can I be haunting you?" I looked down at my feet. This was it, the point of no return. What I was about to ask him was too much, I knew that now. Yet I still had to try. "I need something from you."

"Alright, what?" I swallowed nervously. "Give me one night with you." He looked at me strangely. "Look Hwoarang, you can spend the night here if you want to, but I don't think it's such a good idea."

"That's not what I mean" I said quietly. "I want one night WITH you." Understanding dawned as his face went blank. "Oh." I started to tremble. "He's going to say no," echoed supreme 'I told you so' voice in my head. "And when he does, you're going to look like a total ass, and go back to your happily-but-not-content ever after with Jin and always wonder why you were so dumb to leave him in the first place." I looked at him stare right back at me with more intensity than even Jin showed. "Why?" he asked simply. I bit my lip. "I need to get you out of me. You're just there all the time in my head, and it's starting to make things complicated… and I don't know if I can handle it anymore." My palms grew sweaty. I couldn't stand this anymore. "Look, I'd better just-"

"OK."

"I'm sorry?" I stared at him as if he'd gone mad. He tilted his head slightly and looked back at me with a serenity completely contrasting to the present situation. "I'll do it. But I want you to know something. I'm doing it because I love you, not as some sort of favor." As if it wasn't enough already, the guilt on my shoulders increased tenfold.

Hours later we sat at the dining room table. Lars had ordered pizza, but neither one of us seemed to be able to get more than a few bites down. I was still in a daze at his acceptance of my request. Call me old fashioned, but to me, sex is something sacred shared between two people. Once that act occurs, you have a bond with that person, whether you want it or not. What I had asked Lars to do tonight was to free me of that bond, and carry on my life as if I'd never met him. A small part of me was deluded enough to buy into it and even put a plan into action for me to carry out like a simple piece of math: after this carnal visit, I'd go back to my apartment and check in with Jin. Tomorrow, I'd go to a pawn shop in town and sell all my junk; drive on home to my beloved moody Jin, who'd welcome me with a benevolent smile and open arms; and pretend as if this entire sordid affair never happened. The rest of me wanted to tell that small part off for being such a naïve asshole. I'd probably never forget Lars, not after this afternoon, and certainly not after tonight. I'd come here with the purpose of cleansing myself of him, but all I seemed to do was further imprint him into me. "You're not eating" he said blankly. I looked up at him. "Neither are you" I observed. He gave me a small grin. "Touché. I see you eventually did keep that chain," he said, his eyes falling on my neck. "I kept it as a reminder" I replied. We both fell back into our ruminations after that. I pushed the slice of cheesy pizza around on my plate before attempting at small talk. "Would it be too forward if I asked you've been keeping while I was... uh… gone?" He pressed his lips together tightly. "I've turned semi-alcoholic, I slept with Nina… and that's about it really." My head spun at the second point. "Slept with Nina?" I repeated implausibly. He squirmed uncomfortably in his seat. "It was a one time thing. I was drunk and in pain, and she was there. Voila, regret sex." I raised my eyebrow and nodded. I felt a dull anger rise inside of me, but I silenced it automatically. He used to be straight before this, so it shouldn't be that big a deal. Besides, I had no right to judge – not after what I asked. Not after what I did.

"Hwoarang?" I looked up again. "I don't mean to be awkward, but could we do this now?" He said it so clearly, without shame or hesitation, as if it were perfectly normal. He was so distant about the whole thing, but I still couldn't forget his earlier words. 'I'm doing it because I love you, not as some sort of favor.' As I nodded to show my approval to him, he stood up; I wondered if we'd ever be able to forget each other if we felt this deeply. I could go back to Jin and be in denial forever more about this day, but that doesn't mean that it never happened. "I'll never forget you" I thought miserably. "Never."

I pushed my plate of barely touched pizza away from and stood up. Lars walked over and grabbed my legs and back with his hands, lifting me into a carrying position. "Wha… what are you doing?" I stammered, confused. He looked at me, pining radiating from the depths of his irises. "This would be our last night together, right?"

"Yes."

"So let's make it count for something." My arm snuck around his neck of its own accord. I had lost all control of myself as I surrendered to my emotions. I leant forward and stole the most delicious kiss I've ever had in my life from his satin lips. God, how I wanted him. As he carried me off to the bedroom, he leant forward to plant light kisses on my neck and chin. He kicked the bedroom door open and laid me gently on the bed. I knew I had made one of the biggest mistakes of my life – not by coming here, but leaving him. As I gazed up into those sad chocolate eyes, I realized that love isn't chasing some ridiculous fantasy; it's being there for someone, forever and always. My fingers crawled up his shoulders and clasped around his neck pulling him closer to me. As he lowered his head for another sweet kiss, I started to cry silently. He pulled back and saw my tears. Frowning slightly, he lowered himself again, this time, his lips tenderly brushing against my closed eyelids, as if trying to wipe my tears away. "Please don't cry" he murmured. "How can you be so good to me?" I asked him hoarsely, my eyes refusing to cut off their waterworks. He smiled slightly. "Why do you ask questions if you already know the answer Hwoarang?" Yes, I did know the answer. To ask him to put it into words would just ruin it. He lifted himself off of me and hastily undid his shirt, followed by his pants and underwear. He stood there in front of me, so bare and vulnerable, offering me his love – something which I wasn't worthy of. He was every bit as beautiful as I remembered. Encouraged by his actions, I ripped my own clothes off, all the while never taking my eyes off of him. I wanted to remember every detail of this, of him. He gently shoved his body onto my own, his warm mouth devotedly carving kisses onto my neck. I moaned as he moved lower, his tongue setting my skin on fire. I tugged gently at his blond hair to pull him upwards. "Please" I pleaded. He reached over to the nightstand where the lotion was and lubricated his steel member. He wetted his middle and index fingers with the remaining lotion and gently pressed them into my entrance. My body arched upwards in want as a heady groan escaped from my mouth. Lars kissed my exposed stomach before pressing me down onto the bed with the palm of his hand. I spread my legs in torturous anticipation. Lars moved in between them, stroking them with the back of his hand. "I love you Hwoarang. I need you to know that" he said quietly. As he entered me, I pulled him on top of me and fixed my eyes onto his. "I love you too Lars. I'm just sorry it took me so long to realize it." He began to move slowly, his pushes gentle; like he was afraid I would break. His hands roamed onto every square inch of my body, leaving a hedonistic path of desire in their wake. I locked onto his lips with my own and shoved my tongue into his waiting mouth. He moaned as explored each crevice of his warm cave. His thrusts were becoming faster now, more wild and forceful. I pulled out of his mouth and threw my head back. I was a complete slave to this moment: I'd never made such sweet love before, and I probably never would again. As sad as it is, I think that's part of the beauty of tonight – it's once in a lifetime. Our breathing came out in rough pants and gasps, signaling we were both close. With a final shove, he covered my mouth with his own and we both came in heavy pulses. He collapsed onto me, his soft breathing caressing my chest. I wrapped my arms around his body and held on tight. "If I could do things over, I would-" His hand reached up and covered my mouth, silencing the rest of the sentence. "Don't. Please don't." His voice was pleading and broken. I turned my head and watch the moon shine brilliantly in the black sky through the window. As I fell asleep, I cursed myself for the thousandth time for having left a lover so pure.

I awoke to the sound of light shuffling in the room. I squinted through half open eyelids to see Lars, fully dressed. "Lars?" I mumbled, tiredly rubbing my eyes. He turned around. "Go back to sleep Hwoarang" he said softly. "It's still early."

"How early?" He glanced at the clock on the nightstand. "Five o' clock kind of early."

"Are you going somewhere?" He fell silent for a moment before answering. "Just out for a walk to clear my head." A pang of guilt made itself known in my stomach. "Listen Lars, about last night… if you regret it-"

"I don't regret anything" he interrupted me. "I'm kind of glad it happened." I looked up at him, my eyes still blurred. "Me too" I said softly. He knelt down beside the bed and took my hand in his own. "No matter what happens, I'll always love you Hwoarang."

"I love you too." I bowed my head in shame as I let the course of last night's events wash over my memory. Of course, I committed infidelity, but Jin was the last thing on my mind. Here, now was what mattered. He let the chain around my neck entwine around one of his fingers, pulling me closer towards his warm body. "Will you be back soon?" I asked. "Probably not" he whispered, his eyes shimmering in the darkness. He kissed my forehead gently. "Goodbye Hwoarang" he said serenely. With those final words, I watched him walk out of the room. As I lay my head down, I heard the front door softly close, along with what I swear was a weary sigh. My eyes grew heavy again, and I drifted back to the dreamless slumber, mentally kicking myself for ever leaving him.

When I awoke again, the clock on the nightstand told me it was eight am. I stretched out of bed and indolently put on my randomly strewn clothes before wandering off into the kitchen. On the counter, in the exact spot where I had left my note of betrayal to Lars, was another note left to me. I sighed as I picked it up: it seemed of late my life seemed to be governed by these irritating things. The paper was folded in half with my name neatly printed on the top. I opened it, and as I scanned the words, my insides turned cold. "No," I whispered. "No, he wouldn't do this." Tears started to cascade from my eyes as I crumpled my body to the floor in a series of sobs. "PLEASE DEAR GOD NO!" I screamed. My breathing virtually stopped, I was crying too hard. An overwhelming sense of grief paralyzed me to the floor. I don't know how long I lay there like that, my sobs echoing in the empty apartment. It could have been hours, maybe even a day. All I knew was that I'd lost what was really important to me. The one person who was there for me when all others were not was gone. "I'm sorry" I whispered, knowing it was too little too late.

_Hwoarang_

_I wish I had the strength to carry on with my life without you, but I don't. Just as you can't forget me, I can't forget you. I love you too much to carry on with the life I've been living for the past two months, even though I know you've moved on. I can't erase you or the time we spent together from my memory, nor do I want to. Remember that day I ranted on about my mother? You said we do strange things for the people we love. I didn't really understand that, not until last night. Just know that this decision was fully mine and is no fault of your own. I love you, and I always will. _

_Lars_

In the moments when my sobs ceased, I heard the devastating crash of my life falling around me.

'_When you are alone, just look at the spaces in between your fingers and remember mines are forever locked with yours'_

Anonymous

**So this is it guys, I finally decided to end the story here. I'm a sucker for sad endings. There may be a sequel to this story on the cards in the future, may be even one with an alternate (i.e. happy) ending, but I'll see how it goes. In the meantime, please go and check out my other story, Yours Eternally. It's not slash, but it kind of follows in the same Tekken vein. I'd just like to thank all my faithful reviewers who have been supporting me and sticking with the story: knightales, FavUYA, MafiaTango and noise-sound of life, and to everyone else who has reviewed and read all of these chapters. Without your help and guidance, I wouldn't have been able to carry on with this, so this chapter is dedicated to all of you. As always, your thoughts and comments are most welcome. Ciao! **


End file.
